


Shifter

by KuraiOfAnagura



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Animal Transformation, Cat Ears, Cat Yuri Plisetsky, Cat/Human Hybrids, Concentration Camps, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Descritption of torture, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Human Experimentation, Human Trafficking, JJ is a gem, JJ's mother is precious!, Katsuki Yuuri is So Done, M/M, Nikolai Plisetsky's death, Panic Attacks, Potya is too good to be true, Shapeshifting, VICTOR IS AN IDIOT, Yuri on the run from the government, Yuuri is a good friend, also there's smut!, but there are also good things in the story!, oh boi, somewhat canon compliant, this sounds so bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-27 00:48:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18293486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraiOfAnagura/pseuds/KuraiOfAnagura
Summary: The world has never been kind to shifters, people that could change their forms to that of an animal. But it was the year 2019 and society has become more and more open towards the minority that walked on four feet among mankind. In a few countries you could even out yourself without being captured, drugged and put away. Some even offered something like human rights. It was crazy.But of course that wasn’t for Russia and Yuri Plisetsky could only hope that hiding in plain sight would save his ass from deportation in a camp or worse. It was a tactic his Dedushka had preached many times in the hope it would finally sink in. But after the death of his beloved Dedushka Yuri knew the government was after him. The logical plan would be to flee to Canada, since it was the only western country that offered refuge to shifters, and he was sure that as an athlete he was more than welcome.The only Canadian he knew was the one person in the world he couldn’t stand even if his life depended on it. Sadly those were his exact options: be friendly with JJ, hoping he would smuggle him to Canada, or die on an examination table.





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> Holy Guacamoly, this was a ride!  
> I don't think I've ever written anything this long and complicated like this.  
> What should've been a slightly longer shortstory for the Not-Victuuri-Bang became... this!
> 
> PLEASE MIND THE TAGS!  
> I mean it! It may seem good, but I've written some really vile stuff in here!  
> I'll try to warn you in every chapter though!
> 
> A BIG FAT THANK YOU!   
> Goes to my two artists Coyote and sf1nley, who not only gave me great input but also EDITED THIS BEAST! D:  
> Please visit their social media!  
> Coyote: https://www.pillowfort.io/Coyoteclaw11  
> sf1nley: https://twitter.com/sf1nley

 

 

 

PROLOGUE

 

St Petersburg | January 2017

When Yuuri Katsuki moved to Russia to move in with his coach-slash-fiance he was prepared for many things. Getting accosted on his way home from the supermarket by three slightly slurring men for his “chinky eyes” was sadly among them- thanks to Detroit for preparing him for that.   
What he wasn’t prepared for was a sudden deep growling sound from further down the alley. All four men froze as a monstrous shadow moved within the darkness and a big black, white and orange striped paw became visible followed by two vibrant green glowing eyes.

The men hissed something Yuuri vaguely recognized as one of Yuri’s most frequently used words and dashed off. The tiger gave another gurgling breath and slunk back into the shadows, releasing Yuuri from its gaze.  
  
“You won’t believe what just happened to me,” he greeted his fiance-slash-coach as he toed off his shoes.

“What is it, solnyshko?” Victor asked, clad in the frilly pink apron gifted to him by Chris and an adoring expression.

“I was being harassed by three drunken guys and suddenly there was this loud growl and then there was a tiger in the alley!” He hadn’t anticipated for Victor to dash towards him and envelope him in a tight hug.

“Oooooh, my Yuuri! What happened? Did it attack you? We need to call the police!”

“What? No! Everything’s ok! After the guys ran away it disappeared. Seriously, aren’t you worried about the fact that I’ve been harassed for racist reasons?”

“Live. Tiger. Yuuri. In a city.”

Ok, that was a valid reason. If it was a tiger at all. He voiced the last sentence aloud and Victor’s face fell further.

“I know what you’re thinking. That it probably was a shifter, right?” Victor asked, his brows knit tightly.

“Obviously?”

“Then I don’t know what’s worse! They’re not only dangerous but also smart and can’t control their animalistic instincts! They’re practically monsters!”

Yuuri could only raise his eyebrows in confusion at Victor’s words. Yes, he knew Russia had different views on a lot of other things: be it homosexuality or in this case shifters. He knew that the stigma was huge, but it was 2016 and after several celebrities and even one European politician from Ireland had outed themselves as shifters, he thought Victor would have an more open mind to them. 

“I won’t call the police. Maybe because three adult men thought it ok to corner a single foreign looking man, but not because I saw a shifter?” The two locked eyes and Victor knew by his expression that there was to swaying Yuuri. His boyfriend could be very stubborn.

He opted to not mention how it was required by law to report any sighting of a shifter and hoped one of the molesters had already done so.

“All that matters is that you’re ok. THough I would feel a lot better if you’d take a pepper spray with you, if you don’t want me to come with you.”

Yuuri shook his head. “You don’t have the time to follow me everywhere. Besides, I’m a grown man.”

“Oh, that I know!” Victor winked and Yuuri blushed. “Now let’s get the table set. Yura’s coming over any minute now. He said something about me abusing Makkachin, but I’m sure he’s just lonely.”


	2. CHAPTER I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the time jumps x'D  
> As it is progressing the story jumps from time to time. 
> 
> Also please beware of a description of violence in this chapter!

Skate Canada | October 29th 2019

“Loosen up a little, Yura, Silver’s not the end of the world,” Mila kicked his shin lightly to get his attention. They were both seated in the I-look-comfy-but-am-a-death-trap-and-you-can-never-escape-from-me armchairs in their hotel’s lobby. It was luck that the two of them, along with Katsudon, had been selected for skate Canada. The event usually made for an unwelcome disruption of their tight training schedule, and Yakov would have to leave one of them to be there for the qualifier event of the other. Yuri dreaded the day when the carefully groomed Juniors would enter the Senior division and he and Mila would need to share their trainer even more.

“She’s right, you know? You’re still gonna qualify, Yurio,” Victor chimed in cheerfully. Right, since Katsuki had skated with him in the competition, and snatching gold, that bastard, it meant that his self proclaimed “coach” was accompanying them. 

Victor had retired for good after last years Olympics and was currently getting his coaching credentials. In his spare time, he was coaching Katsuki and taking part-time classes at the St. Petersburg Sports and Health University Lesgaft.. It was a deal with Yakov, so Victor could later take over his position. Yakov made sure Victor didn’t ruin Japan’s Ace with his unqualified coaching attempts.

Yuri grunted in lieu of an answer and was tempted to sink even further into the seat, but he instead stretched and tried to balance on the armchair’s edge. The hotel was the flat kind and the lobby was vast, going over into a cafe section where they currently sat. Their combined luggage was piled high next to the wall by the counter. Lilia was reading one of her paperbacks and blissfully ignoring all of them. Yakov was currently on the phone, trying to order a van from the local taxi company to bring them and their gear to the airport in time. Georgi, the current stand in coach, has already left on an earlier flight along with the Juniors and the medical staff.

Victor, Mila and Katsuki exchanged some worried glances. Yuri’s go to reaction was to hiss and bark at the dreaded nickname. But now he barely reacted at all. The silent conversation between Yuuri and Victor must’ve come to an end, because carefully Yuuri placed his hand on Yuri’s knee.

“Yura?” Yuri had to give it to him that he’d always tried to navigate his way through the bottomless swamp that were Russian diminutives. “Are you alright?”

Was he? No, he certainly was not. The dark blue angry blob of fear that had latched onto his ribcage from the inside, made that very clear.

“Just tired, Katsudon,” he answered instead.

“That’s ok, Yura, it’s just that we’re worrying about you. You’ve been withdrawn and down a lot lately. Since training started again, to be honest. And we just wanted to tell you that you can come to us with everything that’s bothering you, okay?”

No, I cannot, he thought but did his best to roll his eyes at Yuuri’s dramatics. “Don’t be dramatic Katsudon. Just because I’m not as rejoicing and barfing rainbows like your coach with his receding hairline, doesn’t mean I’m depressed, okay?”

Victor’s hand twitched, weakly covering his reaction to finger his hairline, but his gaze darkened. “And here I’d hoped you would outgrow your bratty behavior.”

Yuri smirked cruelly at him. “And miss every opportunity to tell you, you’re not the center of the universe? Fat chance with that!”

“What do you mean you can’t send a van because the road’s have been blocked around the hotel?” Yakov barked in English into his mobile.

Yuri perked up and his panic must’ve shown on his face, because Victor was sending him a funny look. There was movement at the glassdoors and several stern looking men in black suits entered the hotel, their pace determined as they swarmed out in a fanlike pattern.

“What the hell?” Victor muttered to himself. Beside him Yuri had become stiff as a board, practically vibrating in his seat, and when they finally locked eyes with Yuri the boy bore a gaze so intense and heavy that Victor suddenly felt very much out of depth.

“I’m sorry,” he more mouthed than whispered the words. Confusion knitted Victor’s brows together, but they were both startled by a barked command that was strangely shouted in Russian.

“Yuri Plisetsky! Hands up! You’re under arrest and to be escorted to Moscow for further interrogation!” The shout came from several tall men dressed sharply in black nondescript suits. Yuuri felt a sudden fear as he realized they were holding real guns in their hands and most of them were pointed at the blond skater, who’d gotten up slowly with his hands up.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lilia stood up sharply, but froze as several of the guns were suddenly pointed at her.

The leader hadn’t broken his eye contact with Yuri until then, a silent battle going on between them. “Please stay still Madame Baranovskaya. As long as Yuri Nikolaievich stays cooperative there’s no need to get agitated.” With that he unclipped a pair of metal cuffs from his belt.

“Who do you think you are to arrest my top skater?” Yakov had clearly had enough judging by his noise level which had reached the level of an unproductive on ice session by now.

The man’s gaze darted towards him and Yuri took it as his cue. He dashed forward towards the man, dropped low just before him and slid over the marble floor until he was behind them. He scramble to his feet just in time to avoid the bullet aimed at him. 

Yuuri heard Mila and Victor and a handful of other people screaming at the loud sound. Suddenly there were men next to each of them and he fumbled for Victor’s hand as they held each other tight. Caught in paralyzing fear he couldn’t do anything but watch as his namesake sprinted through the lobby only to suddenly start to stumble as yet another ear piercing bang ripped through the room and Yuri cried out in obvious pain, clutching his left shoulder tightly.

Three men along with the leader had started after him, one of them raising yet another but different gun. This time the sound was just a low plop but Yuri cried out even more as the projectile hit his leg and his long legs gave out under him. He desperately tried to crawl back to a standing, but his leg wouldn’t respond as and suddenly there was a dark shadow cast over him. He braced himself for and outburst, but the arms that shielded him were warm and the smell familiar and oh so welcomed.

Yuuri heard how Yuri cried something garbled, that sounded suspiciously like ‘jean’ and it took him some moments to identify the man who’d thrown himself protectively over Yuri as Jean-Jacques Leroy.

Just before the Russian men reached them another man in a suit stepped between them with his gun raised. “Lower your guns! This is the Canadian Bureau of Refugees and Immigration. State your name and occupation!”

With an ugly snarl the three men that pursued Yuri came to a halt and held up their guns harmlessly by the tips of their fingers. “I’m Agent Filip Dubkov and I’m leading this operation in the name of the Russian Shifters Agency. I’m here to arrest Yuri Nikolaiveich Plisetsky, which is well in our jurisdiction as he is a Russian citizen.”

Yuuri felt the collective gasp from the other Russians around him and Victor’s grip tightening around him. The Canadian agent spoke again.

“Mr. Plisetsky is currently under the protection of the Canadian government and the Bureau of Refugees and Immigration as he’s filed an application of asylum, which has since been granted. You have no legal ground to arrest him and you’re overstepping your authorization by opening fire in an public place with the possibility to harm civilians.”

“You cannot arrest us. We have diplomatic immunity.”

“But I can expel you from this place and there will be a formal complaint addressed to your authority!”

Several other Canadian agents have filled the lobby, each of them shielding a Russian one. Agent Dubkov regarded the Canadian agent with a last disdainful look, sparing an even more grossed out one for the skater on the floor before he barked an order in Russian. The agents pocketed their weapons but made no move to release the skating team from their vicinity.

“My colleagues and I will leave and we will escort Coach Feltsman and his team to their flight to Moscow.”

A startled scream erupted from somewhere and Yuuri felt Victor tightening his grip even harder as he saw a long tiger striped tail rolling itself from Yuri. The man squirmed and grunted in pain, clutching the top of his head with his hands as he tried to curl tighter into JJ’s embrace. Blood had started to drip on the white marble.

“Sir! He’s bleeding!” Jean pleaded towards the Canadian agent who only nodded grimly.

“I’ve ordered an ambulance. Just in case. Looks like it was a good idea. Agent Dobkov, you will be escorted by my men to the airport.”

Again some shouted orders in Russian and Yuuri felt how he was manhandled out of the hotel. Several men grabbed their piled up luggage and he was sure he heard cars pulling up in front of the hotel. Through the passing bodies he saw two medics arriving and crouching down to where Yuri still lay.

“Come, Yuuri,” he heard Victor murmuring into his ear and this was when he finally snapped out of it.

“What? No!”

“Come on, Yuuri, we have to get to the airport,” Victor tried to urge him on, but fuelled with a sudden urge of rebellion Yuuri put his feet on the ground.

“I-I’m not a Russian citizen. They don’t have the authority to command me. I’m staying here.”

“What?” Victor hissed with a sudden ugly face. “Don’t be stupid Yuuri, we can’t ignore the orders of the government!”

“Well, you can’t, yes. But I’m Japanese. I have to make sure Yuri’s ok. He was shot!”

Victor clamped a hand on his mouth. “Yuuri, keep quiet! He was obviously a shifter all along! He lied to all of us!”

“He’s our friend!”

“He’s an animal!”

As soon as Victor said it he knew he’d gone too far. The look in Yuuri’s eyes was one of disgust and as he spoke his voice was eerily calm. “Victor, please go home without me,” he said in loud English, making sure everybody heard him. “I have to visit Phichit in Detroit and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Victor only nodded mutely as finally an agent stepped forward and pulled him into a black car, shoving him into the backseat next to a terrified looking Mila.

Suddenly Yuuri felt very alone and cold with everybody gone. Thankfully he still had his handbag strapped over one shoulder. A quick checkthrough confirmed the he had his mobile, a charger, his passport and his wallet with him.   
With Victor gone and Yuri who knows where he did the only thing that made sense in his current state.

He called Phichit.


	3. CHAPTER II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I can give you a glimpse of Yuri's state of mind and why he fled from Russia in the first place.

Phichit arrived in Quebec with no idea why he was called here and the disapproving eye from Celestino in his memory. The coach may not be responsible for Yuuri Katsuki anymore, but he knew when to allow Phichit an unreasonable request if Katsuki profited from it. After Yuuri’s simple call, which lasted one minute at the max, and a stern talk frm Celestino, which lasted way more than one minute, Phichit packed some essentials and took a taxi, a plane and another taxi and arrived at the hotel he knew all skaters resided during Skate Canada.

Phichit entered the lobby approximately 4 hours after Yuuri’s call. He found the Japanese skater seated in a thickly cushioned chair and from experience Phichit could tell he hadn’t moved since he’d called him.

“Yuuri?” Phichit called gently and crouched down next to his best friend. “What happened? Did something happen with Victor?” Yuuri mutely shook his head, his eyes darting around nervously. “We can’t talk here?” A nod.

So Phichit helped Yuuri stand up, shouldered his backpack again and lead them to a nearby park, which was a favored place of many skaters for jogging.

Yuuri dropped the bomb very gently with “I just saw how the Russian government shoot Yuri.”

 

\--

 

Yuri woke up very very cold. He dimly registered how hard and unforgiving the ground under him was and how difficult it was for him to actually wake up. As he fought his way up to consciousness pain flared up in what he was sure was his arm and leg. Coldness had seeped into his stiff and heavy limbs and he struggled to squint his eyes open.

Fear slammed into his guts like a sledgehammer. 

He was in a steril grey room. The floor was clinical linoleum and the walls bare. One single heavy looking door gaped like a dark grey maw at him. Taunting him. A cold light shone from the ceiling, secured by a thick wiry mesh. He was naked and cold and oh so alone.

Yuri forced his stiff muscles to life. Panic overtook his mind and his breathing got erratic.

_ They caught me. _

The thought bounced back and forth in his mind, he pushed himself up, the pain in his leg easily forgotten, but the wound on his shoulder broke open again and with horror he realised that the sticky sensation that had glued him to the ground was his own blood that had pooled under his chest while he was unconscious.   
With a pained grunt he heaved himself into a corner, instinctively seeking the wall at his back for whatever was to come.

_ They caught me. They caught me. They caught me- _

Yuri curled into himself, drawing his legs to his chest while the panic held him in a tight grip.

His whole body flinched as he heard the creacking in the door’s closing mechanism. He braced himself for the worst as a man in a lab coat stepped into the room.

 

\--

 

The young Doctor, who’d been on his shift in the emergency ring when the Bureau of Refugees and Immigration had rushed in a live tiger, though thoroughly sedated, halted in the doorway. The systems of the shifter ward had informed him that its inhabitant had shifted from his animal form back to a human and was currently waking up.    
When he normally entered the room he was greeted with embarrassment, stoicism and in some cases caution. He’d never seen somebody as scared and downright terrified as Yuri Plisetsky. The young man sat huddled in the far right corner of the room with a panicked and wild look in his eyes. The halogen light, which was standard in the whole hospital, reflected light stripes on goosebumped skin whenever the blond moved.

“Mr. Plisetsky?” he called carefully and was rewarded with another violent twitch. Their eyes met and suddenly the Doctor stood rooted. He was alone with a tiger in a small room and there was no telling when the fear the other man was currently experiencing would shift into self-defence.

“Do you know where you are?” he made sure to stay right under the doorway. Mr. Plisetsky’s shivering didn’t stop as he gave a barely noticeable shake of his head.

“You’re in the Centre hospitalier universitaire de Québec, the Central Hospital,” he translated when there was no reaction. “You were shot and injected with a substance that triggered your shifting. Since we didn’t know what you were injected with we had to act according to protocol to minimize potential harm to our staff and to yourself and brought you to this room. This is the Shifter’s Ward and I’m here to transfer you to the emergency wing of our facility where we can treat your injuries?”

The Doctor deemed it safe to approach but was met with a feral growl as the man, no, he was just a little bit more of a boy, curled around himself tighter. At this rate he’d shut down out of fear. Of course the Bureau hadn’t shared any official information with the medical staff, but with the blonde's obviously Russian name and his status as a shifter, it wasn't hard for the doctor to put two and two together.  No wonder he was terrified when approached by medical personnel.

Yuri knew he was starting to hyperventilate. he also knew he was spiralling into a panic attack and that it wasn’t the right course of action in his current situation. He couldn’t recall how he got here, his mind blurry and fuzzy. The man in the lab coat spoke with a kind and calm voice, but everything in his mind screamed it was a trap. He couldn’t trust anyone or anything he saw. He fought the urge to shift, determined not to give them what  _ they _ wanted. His stripes must be showing on his skin by now, they always got visible when he was stressed. He wanted Jean by his side, but refused to mutter his name, not providing  _ them _ with anything to hurt him.

“Would you like for me to call for Mr. Leroy? He’s currently in the waiting area?”

The name filtered through Yuri’s panic and somehow the Doctor must’ve read something on his face, because he nodded and left the room. The door was left open, but Yuri was sure this was also just a trap.

 

\--

 

“Yura?” Jean had hurried after the young doctor, who’d fetched him from his light nap in the horrible, hard hospital chairs. He’d been told his friend was terrified and unresponsive, and right now he couldn’t tell if it was from some kind of panic attack or a lingering reaction to whatever the Russians had shot him with. He knew that there were things that could force a shifting, but he’d never seen it before. Judging by Yuri’s horrible cries, it had been far from painless, mercifully knocking him out before they even reached the hospital. From then on, Jean refused to leave, but they’d convinced him to at least wait in the designated area until Yuri woke up again.

He now crouched down slowly in front of Yuri, disregarding the warning growl and the starkly visible stripes that ornamented his white skin.

“Yura,” he called again. “I’m going to touch you now. It’s me, Jean.” Yuri’s breath hitched and he finally looked up. JJ’s heart snapped when he saw the broken look in those beautiful eyes. “Look at me, can you feel me? You’re in Canada, you’re in a hospital. You’re not in Russia and they didn’t get you. You escaped and you’re safe and I’m with you.”

Earlier, Jean had read up on talking to trauma victims, who on the run. He found himself very thankful for that when Yuri shuddered in relief, briefly closing his eyes as his head sagged against his shoulder.

Had his eyes not blinked back open, JJ might have thought Yuri had passed out. With a murmured warning, he heaved Yuri up into his arms, carrying him bridal style. The muscle mass of the young athlete wasn’t exactly light, but JJ was a skater himself. He’d rather carry him than put him in a wheelchair.

The doctor looked very relieved at the dulling stripes on Yuri’s skin and lead the way back to the emergency wing.

 

\--

 

Two days after the fateful incident, Phichit and Yuuri had finally located their friend. Calling the hospitals and the Bureau had proven fruitless as well as trying to call Yuri himself. The call always went straight to voicemail. Phichit had tried to call JJ, but the Canadian’s mobile had been shut off as well until this morning when they’d finally been able to reach him. JJ had been very suspicious of them, but after talking with Yuuri and hearing his side of the story, he’d given then the name of the hospital that currently housed Yuri.

The two friends had rented a hotel room in a suburb and tried to navigate their way through the bus system until they reached the hospital. JJ had only given them Yuri’s room number after Phichit called him back via the landline of the hotel

Yuuri had also succeeded in calling Victor before they reached the hospital, but his fiancè’s voice had been strained and his answers one-worded. Yuuri’s paranoid mind pictured him under constant surveillance from those nasty agents. He just hoped he would be allowed to enter Russia again after this.

They entered the hospital and after some navigation problems and the help of a random male nurse who pointed them to the correct ward, they found themselves in front of Y. Plisetsky’s door. Yuuri asked Phichit to wait for him as he entered the sunlit room.

Yuri sat in a bed, clad in a grey hospital gown. His hair was open and long, and his injured arm was in sling. He gazed out of the window, obviously lost in thought, and he startled as Yuuri coughed politely.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Piggy?” It’d been a long time since Yuuri had been called that. Usually he was Katsudon, and he knew the blond well enough to hear the endearment in the name.

“I- uh- I refused… to uhm return with V-victor?”

“Are you fucking nuts?! Go back to your stupid boyfriend! I don’t need you here just so you can spy for him!”

“Wha-? No! I refused Victor! He tried to make me, but I told him I would return later!”

“Why would you do that, and why should I believe you?! Go away Katsudon!”

“I just couldn’t leave without knowing you’re okay!” Yuuri could be very stubborn. A lot of people, Victor and Yuri included, had made the mistake of underestimating him due to his polite nature. But if Yuuri got something in his head, he refused to budge. He gave Yuuri the same look now as he’d given Victor when they’d had a dispute over the number of quads to put into his short program.

“Why would you care? It’s not like people like me are worth the dirt under your nails!”

“That’s not true, Yuri! I don’t care if you’re a shifter or a mars man or whatever! You’re my friend, and that’s all I care about!”

Yuri’s mouth clamped shut with a click of his teeth. It was obvious that he knew of no good response to that, but his limbs remained taut and his eyes glared daggers from dangerous, sea green slits.

Yuuri showed even more bravery as he sat down next to the bed despite the furious man, his eyes firm. Now with the weak winter sun behind him Yuuri could see faint light stripes on Yuri’s forehead, only visible whenever he shifted oh so slightly.

“Go away!” Yuri growled again. This time, Yuuri could hear the distinct animal-sounding growl laced underneath, but he just smiled.

“I won’t.”

Yuri huffed in defeat and threw himself back at the cushion only to hiss in pain as he startled his injured shoulder.

“Aren’t you disgusted? The others sure looked like they were.”

Yuuri shook his head. “I’m not. Honestly, I’m mostly surprised. I uh never met a shifter myself. Or at least nobody that obviously showed. The fairytales tell mostly of crea- people that can’t hide their uhm nature. But I knew they existed back home as well as when I lived in Detroit. I’ve never heard of shifters from Russia, though.”

Yuri scoffed audibly. “Well, that’s probably one of the reasons I fled, right?”

“Yura.”

“What?”

“What happened?” Damn Yuuri and his gentle, yet firm nature. Yuri realized he couldn’t escape him. It was better to just tell him everything. Those trusting brown eyes grated on his nerves.

Yuri turned away and looked out of the window. The bare trees would surely be beautiful in spring. “My Deda died this summer.”

A startled gasp. “Oh, Yuri, I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I was prepared.”

“So this is why you’ve been so sad all this time?” Yuuri received no answer. When he heard a small sniffle, he put his hand on Yuri’s thigh, hoping to transmit all his feelings through bare touch.


	4. CHAPTER III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the minor character death in this one.
> 
> Since this story wasn't planed as a chaptered one, but I decided on doing so for easier reading, the length of the chapters varies greatly.

Moscow | January 7th 2019 | Christmas in Russia

“That’s bullshit, Deda! I’m not making plans without you!”

“Don’t fight me on this, Yura, all I want is to be prepared. You know, an unprepared tiger-”

“Yeha, yeah, I know, is a dead tiger.”

His grandfather grunted unhappily. “I know that you know. And I also know you don’t want to to hear it, but we have to face the fact that I probably won’t see next Christmas, Yuratchka!”

“Shut up!” Yuri threw the dishrag into the sink and started pacing. His grandfather watched him. He knew he was being cruel, but there was no point in sugarcoating it. The x-rays from the underground doctor were clear. It was in his lungs and getting the drugs for this special kind was impossible without putting himself, and therefore his grandson, at a risk. He’d decided that prolonging his life without any idea how much more time it would give him, if any, was in no way worth the safety and life of the last family he had left. Just like their other form, he would do anything to protect his young.

“Close the blinds, Yuratchka,” Nikolai ordered and turned into the living room. Yuri stopped in his path and hissed involuntarily, but he went around the house and did as he was asked.   
When he entered the living room his grandfather had already shifted. The blind eye, which was kind of lazy as a human, was white and milky, and the scars usually concealed by clothes marred the beautiful stripes. Yuri followed suit and snuck under the offered paw.   
Tigers couldn’t cry tears, but for beings in between like them, Yuri sometimes thought it was possible if he was just sad enough. Right now it certainly felt that way as he snuggled his head under his Deda’s grizzled fur.

“I want you to got to Canada,” Nikolai had told him before Yuri’s outburst over the kitchen sink. “I’ve asked around in my old contacts, and they all agreed that Canada’s the best choice for you. Little to no persecution by the law, a more or less open-minded community and most of all: they’re offering refugee status to scientists, artists and … athletes. All you need is somebody vouching for you. I’ll pull the strings with my contacts to make the immigration possible for you.”

So they lay there, the last two of their family, basking in each other’s warmth. Nikolai had often told a younger Yuri how his father and uncles had emigrated from Siberia to Moscow, fleeing the hunting parties that roamed through the snowy woods of their once home and killed both shifters and tigers alike. It was their plan to hide in plain sight, concealing their shifting behind closed doors and hoping that the USSR’s system would swallow them completely.

Nikolai still dared to return home every decade, and the fall before Yuri moved to St. Petersburg, he took his grandson with him. They hiked deep, deep into the woods until they couldn’t smell a human for days. It was not until they hid their backpacks and gear and erased all of their human tracks that they also shed their human skin.

The thrill he felt with the thick snow under his paws and the wind of the woods and mountains in his fur, was a siren’s call in his mind. A small traitorous voice whispered he could have this forever. Why change back? Humans were complicated. This was simple, and it felt oh so right.

Strolling as a tiger through the forests of Siberia felt like flying, and if he hadn’t known skating… maybe he would’ve given in that day; given in to his other side.

“I want you to contact someone from the Canadian skating team. I want you to gain their trust so that they’ll vouch for you and you can apply for asylum. I’ll arrange it so that you can go at the end of next year’s season. You’ll start transferring your money like I’ve taught you. When you talk to your contact you’ll deny any blood relation to me.”

That January day made for a very sad Christmas, the last one Yuri and Nikolai would ever share.

 

ISU World Figure Skating Tournament | March 2019

The next time he had any kind of contact with the Canadian team was during worlds. They were, like the Russians, eligible to send in three skaters, but Yuri had his eyes on only one. He knew who his target was as soon as his grandfather had mentioned Canada. The only real struggle was trying to talk to him alone without raising any suspicion or drawing attention. And whenever Yuri Plisetsky and Jean-Jacques Leroy were in the same room, all of the attention was on them.

Yuri's grandfather had begun instructing him on how to move through constant surveillance before he could even remember, a surveillance that hadn’t stopped since the USSR, no matter what the propaganda of the new government told the public. Nikolai had been a spy and resistance fighter, undermining the KGB and fighting a silent war in order to protect other shifters. He’d buried a jar with the names and stories of those he’d helped in their backyard, and Yuri was determined to publish his Deda’s good deeds one day, telling everybody what an amazing and brave person the Old Tiger, a nickname given to him by the shifter community due to his one blind eye, was.

Today he was more than thankful for all the little tricks he knew. For starters, any kind of digital communication had to be heavily encrypted and the tracks covered. Paper was better, because it could be easily swallowed and burned. But the best way was mouth to mouth, making sure no bugs were put on people or in rooms.

On the first free training Yuri’s and JJ’s ice time was scheduled during the same slot, and it went by the same pattern. JJ had greeted him as Princess, and Yuri had barked profanities, held back by Yakov and while the two passed each other. Yuri bumped his shoulder hard into JJ, inspiring the Canadian to cradle his injured shoulder in mock pain, acting to faint from the tough love of the prickly lady.

What JJ had not anticipated was to find a piece of paper in his training jacket. The message was written in French with a scrawny handwriting.

_ Come at ten past two in the afternoon to dressing room B07. Come alone and leave your mobile at the hotel. Destroy this note. -Princess _

Yuri’d debated how to sign it, but decided against anything that could lead to his name. If anybody found the note one could still argue it was from a fangirl hoping to meet her idol alone.

He knew that from JJ’s perspective it would seem stupid to really follow the instructions if not downright dangerous. But then again, JJ was very stupid in Yuri’s books, so he had high hopes that the Canadian would show up. 

He’d scouted the locker room already. It was free from any shelves, and he’d checked the benches already for bugs or cameras; as well as the window sills behind the milky glass. The room was in the third floor so hopefully nobody could listen to them from the outside. The room joined a shower room, which lead to the dressing room B08, so if JJ wasn’t alone he could wait in the shower and then withdraw to the other room and out of the facility if he deemed himself in danger.

He tensed as he heard the click of the heavy door. “Hello?” Somebody entered the room and the door clicked shut again. Yuri strained his ears and nose, but it appeared that JJ had come alone.

“Anybody in here?” JJ called again taking another step into the room. He appeared to be genuinely surprised when Yuri stepped out of the shower room, his mouth opening to ask what this is about, but Yuri held up a hand to silence him and set down the stuff he was carrying. It was an older CD Player with integrated boxes, he pressed play and a classy jazz number began to fill the room. His grandfather had always advised him to use jazz, because something in the wavelength of the trombones was very good at disturbing bugs.

“What the heck? What’s this supposed to mean?”

“Does anybody know you’re hear? Did you destroy the note?”

“... … so, Princess?”

“Answer the fucking question, JJ!”

JJ rolled his eyes, but decided to play along. “I told my parents that I’m searching for some good coffee. They won’t miss me for another half an hour, and yes, I destroyed your message. I ripped it in small pieces and flushed it down those fancy toilets.”

“Did you flush it down different toilets?”

“Jesus, Yuri, what’s up with you?”

Yuri threw him a dark look, but then sighed heavily and sat down on the bench, JJ seated himself opposite of him.

“I-” he started and combed his long blond hair from his face. “I need your help.”

“Okay.” JJ shot immediately and Yuri sneared.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you.”

“Yeah, but, you’re my friend, so whatever it is, it has to be serious and I want to be able to help you.”

“We’re not friends.”

“We are!”

“You call me a lady and a princess every time we meet!”

“It’s just our routine!”

“It’s degrading!”

“You never said you don’t like it!”

“Were my screams of rage not a good enough message?”

“You scream all of the time!”

Yuri’s eyes bulged and he knew he had to be red by know. With all their yelling the countermeasure he took against interception was obsolete. You could probably hear them at the other end of the rink. He had to calm himself, yelling at JJ would only put them in danger and too much was at stake. Yuri took a deep breath, crossed his arms and leaned back.

“Well maybe you really are my friend. After all you never called me kitten like rest of the world.”

It was like a switch and JJ’s whole demeanor changed. He’d been moving constantly but now he was stock still and Yuri could see the gears roaring in his head. Bingo, Yuri thought and smirked.

“Yuri…” he started slowly, his gaze suddenly a lot darker and predatory. “What do you need?”

That startled Yuri. He’d anticipated for JJ to dismiss him immediately or to try and wriggle his way out of it.

“I need to leave. Russia I mean. Soon. I’ve been hiding in plain sight until now, but my blood samples are stored at the Olympic Committee thanks to the doping regulations. And it only needs one anonymous tip, one stupid rumor and they’re going to investigate the samples. Canada is offering refugee for us, but I can only ask for asylum if a Canadian citizen is vouching for me.”

JJ nodded slowly indicating he’d understood, he regarded Yuri with a sharp look, calculating what he’d heard and trying to decide what to do. He knew of course how shifters were hunted and killed in other countries and when he’d first smelled the small blond back then he’d been more than a little bit shocked. Central Asia was supposed to the worst place for shifters to live in and he couldn’t help the nervous sense of dread in his guts whenever he had to compete in Russia.   
But something wasn’t right, Yuri wasn’t telling him the whole truth. If the danger from the blood samples was such a dire one he’d probably have defected right after the Olympics. There had to be more.

“I will help you, but I want you to be honest with me, Yuri. The blood samples are a shitty rule. And I’ve heard rumors how dangerous it is for… how dangerous it is in Russia. But I have the feeling there’s more to it?”

Yuri deflated, let his hair cover his head. He knew this would come and he had to be honest if he wanted to gain JJ’s trust. “My Dedushka has small cell lung cancer.”

“Oh, shit I’m sorry, Yuri.” Yuri shrugged, not really knowing how to handle it.

“Please don’t mention our blood relation to the asylum office. As far as they’re concerned I don’t have blood relatives and only want to flee because of the blood samples.”

“Of course.”

His voice wavered when he spoke further and JJ changed the benches, sitting now next to him but not yet daring to touch him. “When he’ll d-dies it’ll take some time, but it’s not like we can inform the authorities that he … p-p-passed away. He has Doctors he can usually go to, but the kind is rare and by now it‘ll be only a matter of time and he ordered me to make plans. Instructed me to contact you and arranged the whole stuff for me. For me alone.”

JJ gently put a surprisingly warm, broad hand on his shoulder. “He takes care of you. It’s only natural, he’s your grandfather after all and he wants you to survive.”

Yuri nodded numbly, but didn’t try to shrug JJ’s hand off his shoulder, opting instead to try to wipe his eyes discreetly. 

“We should go soon, your parents are going to miss you.”

“Okay. You seem to have it all planned out. What do you want me to do?”

“You need to go to the Bureau of Refugee and Immigration and state that you’ve been contacted by me and describe my problem. You need to state that you’re willing to vouch for me and that I’m willing to discuss any kind of deal. Ask that you’re to be the only channel of contact. I think messaging through Insta first would be best but we have to be careful. The government runs an algorithm on any kind of social media and several words are triggering a surveillance. I’ll give you a list of triggers and code words I’ve thought of so we can talk as clear as possible and without giving anything away.”

“I can do that. I’ll go there as soon as we’ve landed.”

“Good. Don’t contact me on Insta until you’ve seen a tweet of a selfie of me and Phichit. I need to divert the attention. If I start chatting with a Canadian, it’ll be a spike in the algorithm, so I have to hide our communication within a lot of international chats. I will constantly chat with Phichit, Leo, Yuuko, Beka and you, holding up the image of being in contact with the entire international skating community.”

“I’m honestly amazed that you know all of that,” JJ started again to sound suspicious.

“I cannot tell you everything, but I promise if you help me that I’ll tell you everything when I’m… safe.” The last word was laced with doubt. 

“Okay. Good. I’ll do my best, I promise.” Yuri had to smile at the honest words. Who knew JJ could be something other than the boisterous person he always played during competitions?

He instructed JJ to go back and not talk to anyone about it, but he couldn’t help but ask why JJ was so willing to help him.

“Well, if we don’t help each other, who will then?” he’d said, further confirming Yuri’s instinctual knowledge. So his nose hadn’t betrayed him.

He waited ten more minutes with the music still playing, making plans and still in awe how easy it had been to convince JJ to vouch for him. Then, he exited through the other dressing room and returned to his coaching team.

 

-

 

Jean tried to approach Yuri during the rest of the competition, but was met with yelling and Yuri’s usual bristling self. He was distracted during the programs and it only marvelled him even more how Yuri could concentrate on his skating while such a damocles sword hung over his head.

Jean headed home with a dissatisfying 5th place, but the competition was hard so at least he got that. If he’d been on top of his game he would’ve competed for the podium, but he had to watch with the others as Yuri received his silver, the Japanese Yuuri his gold and Phichit cried like a baby over his bronze.   
When his hand luggage was checked at the airport he saw that a small booklet was among his possessions that he had no idea how it got in his bag in the first place. It was, as promised, the code book Yuri had spoken about.

As soon as they landed he spoke with his parents about the events in Saitama. His father grumbled about he’d let himself get distracted, yet his mother scolded him for putting himself and potentially his family in such a danger but hugged him afterwards stating how proud she was of him.

He went to the local office of the Bureau of Refugee and Asylum in Quebec first thing the next morning, feeling cranky and jetlagged. Yuri had written the address for him in the little booklet. He was directed to a small waiting room at the very end of the citizen center where he was asked to wait. At the front desk he’d stated that he wanted to ask for asylum, and before he could say more, the clerk had given him the directions. Time seemed to drag before finally, a man stepped into the small room, who instantly reminded JJ of the movie,  Men in Black.

“Bonjour Monsieur Leroy, thank you for coming here,” he was greeted in Quebecious. “I’m special agent Derosh and I’m one of the leading investigators for the Bureau. What can I do for you?”

“Wow, special agent? Sounds very high up in the food chain?”

“Well, I want to be frank, Monsieur Leroy, you’re a well known figure, not only in Quebec but also in all of Canada. After all you’ve lead our figure skating team to a gold medal in Pyeungchang. And if you’re voicing your desire to vouch for an asylum seeker we got suspicious that it might be somebody valuable for our country.”

“And if it’s not? If he’s not good enough you’re shutting the door before his nose?”

“I can assure you that I’m on the same page as you in this, but I do not make the laws, Monsieur Leroy.”

Jean sat back in his chair, not liking how this was going. He’d hoped it would be easier.

“Why don’t we discuss this further in my office?”

“Before I do that I want to have a guarantee that this information won’t be used against me, my family and skating facility or the person I’m vouching for.”

Agent Derosh had to smile at that. “You have my word, Monsieur Leroy.”

“Why don’t we start with a name, Monsieur Leroy?” Agent Derosh stated as they both had sat down in the much more comfortable chairs.

“It’s a Russian skating college of mine…”

“I assume we’re talking about Yuri Plisetsky? He’s the only active Russian skater which skated on your level just yesterday, right?”

Jean stopped. These people would be helping Yuri, he had to trust them, but the Russian’s fear and caution had somewhat infected JJ as well.

“Yes… It’s about him. As you know he’s a formidable skater, a European Champion and just now placed second at the World Championship.”

“Yes, but he also has, from what I’ve gathered, a very temperamental and violent personality.”

“Oh, no, not at all. He’s prickly, but that’s just part of his skating persona. We all form some kind of mask, a banner under which we skate to make it easier for the judges to reach us. Victor Nikiforov was the charming champion, Otabek Altin plays the stoic lone soldier. I can assure you that Yuri’s true character’s far from his image during competitions.”

“Well, than, assuming this was true,” Derosh had taken note of everything Jean said, “he’s still a very successful figure skater and well known in Russia.”

“He’s fearing for his life, Monsieur Derosh, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked my help.”

“I’m aware of that, but what I need to hear from you, Monsieur Leroy, is the reason why he’s trying to apply for asylum?”

Jean fidgeted nervous in his seat, he knew he was the poster child of unreliable source, but what he was about to say now went against everything he’s ever been taught.

“He’s a shifter, sir.”

 

\--

 

After his confession a very long, very tiresome and very bothersome process had started. He had to talk with psychologist and agents evaluating not only him, but also Yuri from his provided source material. Yuri had included a handwritten letter in the code book, that could’ve only been translated by a cipher found inside the little book, in which he stated how he’s afraid to be found out and abducted, that he’s willing to offer his profession in both competition and later in advice or coaching to the Canadian government. The government operatives who worked on his case had stated more than once how impressed they were by his secure method, but that this level of paranoia was neither uncommon for Russian refugees nor uncalled for. Jean had to answer the same question like a hundred times until he was finally allowed to get in contact with Yuri again and tell him that his application was underway.

A day ago Yuri had finally posted the promised picture of him and Phichit with the caption that he’d underestimated the Thai’s good taste when it came to online gaming.

JjLeroy15: Princess! You’ve finally joined some fun outside of the real world? What’re u playing?

YPlisetsky: Fuck off leroy! if u call me princess one more time I’m disemboweling you with my knife shoes next time we see each other!

JJLeroy15: Lol?

YPlisetsky: How ancient are you? who says lol anymore?

JJLeroy15: Haha, no, I was asking if you’re playing league of legends?

YPlisetsky: Again! R u ancient?

JJLeroy15: Then what?

YPlisetsky: :sent a Reaper sticker:

JJLeroy15: :sent a Tracer Sticker: Tracer’s best girl!

Yuri: Guess your choice doesn’t suck too much

JJ: you fancy a game in the future?

Yuri: you seriously wanna get your ass handed to u?

JJ: well see about that, Plisetsky. But seriously, you free? I can send you the server invitation. I’ve just checked, I can add you

Yuri: it is on, Leroy! Any last words?

Half of the planet away Yuri couldn’t contain his grin. Inviting him to the server had been the code for the acceptance of his application, so he at least got that.   
He tapped on his phone and called his grandfather. After worlds there had been one week of downtime and then several ballet appointments for Lilia. He wouldn’t be able to go home until the middle of May, but at least he had two months of free time which he was allowed to spend at home under the proposition that he would attend the lessons of a tutor.

“Deda! You remember that hard combination I told you about? I’ve finally nailed it today in practice!” He hated talking in code with his grandfather, for he had always been the only person in his life he could trust fully.

“That’s amazing Yurotchka, I’m so happy for you,” his grandfather’s answer though sounded at least genuine. That was until he was shook by a violent coughing fit that left him wheezing in the end.

After the phone call ended Yuri felt like crying. His eyes were hot and his throat hurt. He just couldn’t imagine a world where his grandfather wasn’t anymore. He knew the reason behind his actions, of course he knew, but whenever he thought back to Christmas he just wanted to break down again.   
Potya startled him as she jumped on his bed and that was what forced the tears to finally spill. They’d argued and discussed it so many times, but bringing the cat with him could compromise the whole thing. It dawned on Yuri for real now that he had to give everything up. His skates, the medals he’d won. The little lion figurine he’d gotten from Katsudon when they’d visited Fukuoka together to go shopping. His clothes, his bed, his friends. And Potya. It was hard to get her to understand, but she’d been a street cat before she’d decided to adopt Yuri and he was sure she would find a good home after that as well. He’d instructed her to run away from Lilia if she ever triedto harm her or catch her. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to her if the government caught her. From what his grandfather had told him the Agency always investigated the pets as well, because there were some cases when shifters had tried to hide at the side of humans.

Yuri buried his head in the cream coloured hair. His skin itched and his body desired to change, but he’d learned from the beginning to resist the urge and so he suffered on.

-

“So how’s your jump training going along for next season?” Yuri asked casually during one of their matches.

“Nah, that darn Salchow-Lutz combination’s giving me trouble,” JJ stated with a frown after looking down on his mobile. Phichit had messaged him and asked him if Plisetsky had also started to suddenly talk to him regularly.

Yuri grunted in agreement, his brows knitting together as he hammered on his keyboard. “That one can be a bitch. Well, of course if you’re not me, I suppose.”

“Haha, very funny, Plisetsky.”

Yuri forced a smirk on his face, but his mind was roaring. So the Bureau still hadn’t come to a final conclusion. JJ would let him know when anything would be decided, but the state of uncertainty as well as his grandfather’s degrading health was grating on his nerves and he couldn’t help himself for asking.

It was the offseason and summer and Yuri spent it like he did every year at home in Moscow. Lilia had wanted to take him with her to Paris, but Yuri’d refused, stating his grandfather could use his help around the house as he always tended to postpone any kind of work until the summer.   
The outskirt where their little house sat was far from the city center. Their home lay nestled between several other identical, Soviet-built, one-family houses. There were strangely many shifter families in their neighbourhood, but his grandfather had never given any hints as to why it was this way. The doctor of their little community, a middle aged man who could shift into an magpie, was good, but even he couldn’t do any more to help Nikolai than relieve his pain.

“Ah, my Deda needs my help, gotta go,” Yuri announced after their match was finished.

“Ah, Yuri, wait!” JJ called and Yuri put his headset back on. “I uhm, I just wanted to say I’m glad… that we’re finally friends, that is…”

Yuri momentarily froze, unsure on how to answer. When not speaking about their shared mission, they strayed from the marked sentences and spoke about mundane things and Yuri’d been more than a little flabbergasted on how genuinely he enjoyed his chats with JJ. No, Jean. He’d asked him to refer to him as Jean to which Yuri’d shyly offered the Yura two days later. Without his boisterous and obnoxious persona he portrayed during competitions Jean was surprisingly sweet, his interests were various and his humour very dorky. Yuri refused to acknowledge how he also noticed the dimples whenever he smiled brightly or how the thought of having at least one friend in Canada soothed his nerves like nothing else these days.

“Idiot,” Yuri snorted. “That’s only because you’re less of an asshole online. Who knew such a person actually existed?”

“I’m always one for surprises! They should call me the second Victor Nikiforov! Well, thinking about it, they really should!”

“Hah! Try living a life where everything you do or accomplished is called ‘the second Nikiforov’!”

“Yeah, ok, that would suck, I can admit that much. You up for the match later? I know it’s kinda late for you and Yuuri, but it works best for Phichit.”

I’ll be there, have to keep the swearing to a minimum, though or grandpa will maul me for waking him. Speaking of which…”

“Yeah, yeah, see you tomor- erm tonight.”

Yuri waved his hand and logged off.

“Your Canadian contact?”

“You know he’s called Jean, Deda.”

“I wish I could get to know him, I trust your choice, but..”

“Yeah, I know Deda,” Yuri got up and hugged his grandfather tight, before stepping on the kitchen counter and starting to prepare lunch. Nikolai had noticed how Yuri tended to do that a lot lately. He wanted to commit his scent and warmth to memory.

“If everything goes right and he’s be sorted into Rostlecom, we’ll be able to arrange an interrogation session just for you.”

“Yura,” Nikolai grabbed his wrist, “everything I wish for is for you to be safe. That you can maybe live a life without fear. If I could give my life for it, I would do so without hesitation.”

Yuri refused to look at him. “Please don’t say stuff like that, Deda.”

“Come here, Yuratchka,” his grandfather tugged him close. He wished he could take the pain away from his grandson, but as long as Yuri survived and stayed safe he could rest peacefully.

“Can you not go to Canada earlier than March?” Nikolai asked over lunch some time later.

“I cannot leave in the middle of the season. It would make everything too much harder for the others. Also the sponsors would probably sue me. And I want to have as much time with you as possible.”

“It’s an irresponsible risk, Yuratchka, those blood samples are a ticking time bomb. I should've smuggled you out of the country just after the Olympics.”

Yuri didn’t answer. It was an old argument. Ever since Nikolai had confronted him with his diagnosis they were going through the same exact same fights, running again and again in circles.

 

\--

 

Jean was confused as his computer rang. They hadn’t schedule a match, but it was Yuri who was calling him. His greeting died on his tongue as the pixelated picture finally cleared. Yuri was shaking and twitching, his eyes wide and panicked and his fingers desperately clutched over his mouth. He rocked back and forth, barely and inch away from hyperventilating and fat silent tears streaming down his cheeks. His fingers and arms were mudstreaked, there were twigs and dried leafs in his hair and the morning sun shone behind him.

Jean swallowed dryly. “You-” he had to clear his throat and the words sounded hollow and ashen on his tongue, “you twisted your ankle… or what?”

Their code for Nikolai Plisetsky’s death.

Yuri just nodded, finally breaking down, screaming and crying like a wounded animal, shaking and broken. Jean wished he could reach through the screen to hold him or even just telling him how really sorry he was. How he wished to fulfill the old man’s wish and look after Yuri from now on, to be his pillar. But he could say and do nothing. Only offer his silent support, staying on the other side of the call, so very far away, and watching how Yuri suffered and hurt in his loss and grief.   
Months later Yuri would tell him, how the health of his grandfather had taken a sudden turn to the worse. He got up one morning, feeling no different than the day before. At lunch though he had a sudden coughing fit which resulted in a lot of bloodsoaked tissues; his grandfather stated how he felt something had popped inside his lungs. His breathing got harder and his pain intensified. Terrified Yuri had called their Doctor, stating the exact same code that he’d twisted his ankle.

The Doctor came an hour later but only brought bad news after listening to Nikolai’s lungs. He said one of the tumors or one of the blood vessels that had developed to support the tumor had burst, explaining the popping sensation he’d experienced. Either way his lungs were filling with liquid and from now on there was nothing he could do. He placed a catheter into the lungs to alleviate the pressure and left with enough pain killers to make it as painless as possible for the old tiger.

Yuri had put Nikolai on the couch with as many cushions as he could find and sat down next to him on the ground, clutching the wrinkled and frail hand. His Deda had told him stories all day in his raspy and whispery voice, dozing from time to time. He told him secrets he didn’t know yet, gave him names of people and when evening came he told him about his grandmother. How much he’d loved her, how beautiful she’d been. How much he resembled her and how thankful he was for that. The sun had finally set and Yuri realized with a start how he’d been surrounded by silence. His grandfather, the man who raised him, the source of his Agape, was gone.

He forced himself into numbness, no tears should be spilled, as he went to the shed and got the shovel. When he loaded the still warm body on his back he was shocked how light he had become. In the dark of the night he made his way into the little woods behind their house, leaving only one pair of footsteps. His eyes burned in contest with his muscles as he shoveled the grave and lowered his beloved Dedushka into the earth. He put a wedding photograph in his folded arms and one of his Babulya’s hand knitted scarfs around his head. He kissed his cheek one last time, breathing the familiar scent in, before he started to fill the grave again, scattering dried leafs over the disturbed earth and marking it with only a small stone. He didn’t remember how he got home only that the rising sun shone into an empty house that refused to feel like home anymore. His mind started whirling again and he needed somebody, something for comfort and the only thing that came to his mind was Jean. He knew it was stupid, a risk, but he’d already booted his laptop and called the contact before his mind could keep up. In two weeks he would go back to St. Petersburg as scheduled. He would close the door of his childhood home one last time and never return again.

 

\--

 

Two days after Nikolai’s death they had yet another Overwatch match schedule, together with Phichit, Yuuri, who was currently in Japan, Otabek and Leo and Guang Hong, who were together in Colorado. 

“JJ, something wrong? You’re kinda distracted today?” Leo asked when he had to respawn again.

Jean looked at the little icon that showed Yuri, furiously marching through the other team, but other than his unusual aggressive and suicidal gameplay, nothing was amiss. He was his usual snarky self and Jean couldn’t fathom how in the world he was able to put on such a mask.

“Yeah, sorry, a little bit under the weather…”

“Did something happen?” Leo prodded further.

“”No, it’s nothing. It’s just… a good friend of mine had to face a huge loss and it’s kind off weighing me down, you know?”

“Oh, that sucks, I’m sorry, you know you can always quit?”

“Nah, it’s ok, distraction is quite good right now,” JJ winked his concerns away.

“Get your panties out of their twist, Leroy,” Yuri remarked cruelly over voice chat.

“Christ, Yuri, let other people grief, ok?” Leo called him out with Guang Hong nodding furiously in his own camera.

“Well-” Yuri started but was suddenly cut off from the game.

“What was that?” Phichit asked.

“No idea,” Yuuri said, “maybe he lost connection?”

“Jeez, that’s so classical Plisetsky. He can be a stone cold bitch at times!” Leo argued further.

“It’s his connection,” Otabek’s deep voice droned over Leo’s anger. “He just texted me that the internet’s down. He’s going to check if he can reboot the router, but if that’s not going to work he’s going to sleep.”

“Ah, that explains it. Yuri would never let go a chance to rip somebody a new one,” Jean joked in what he hoped was a lighthearted tone. But all he really wanted was to finally have Yuri in Canada with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say "minro character death"???  
> Whenever was Nikolai a minor character!? Q__Q  
> I'm firmly in the "Nikolai's not that old and will still be alive when Yuri turns 40" - corner, but for the purpose of this story he had to die...
> 
> ... and please believe me when I tell you how hard it was for me!  
> I cried so heard while writing this scene, I gave myself an A-grad migrane in the process! D:


	5. CHAPTER IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the time jumps again (while writing this I get a Let's to the Time Warp again! earworm...)

Finland | October 11th 2019

Yuri couldn’t believe his luck when he got sorted again in Skate Canada and the Rostlecom cup. He would’ve found an excuse to go there, even if he hadn't been assigned there. The original plan he and his grandfather had developed was for Yuri to vanish during Worlds, which was held in Vancouver this season, but with Nikolai’s passing and his chance to visit Canada earlier, nothing really held him in Russia anymore. He already painfully missed his friends even while skating right next to them, but a sense of urgency had settled in his guts, his instincts told him it was time. Now or never.

He’d jumped to the offer from Yakov to skate at the Finlandia trophy as a warm up for the Grand Prix series. Both to settle his rattling nerves and because Jean would be there as well.

They stumbled one after the other into what appeared to be a broom closet, with only the light coming from under the door. Finland was too close to Russia for Yuri to take any risks; the sound he played from the CD player was like a distorted radio, effectively covering their voices without raising suspicion like music would coming from a broom closet.

It was crowded, and Jean immediately took him in his arms. “Yura, Yura, I’m so sorry. I wish I could’ve been there for you, I wish-” Yuri had relished in the hug, but as soon as his eyes started to prickle, he shoved Jean away from him.

“Later. I cannot allow myself to grieve until I’m in Canada, okay?”

“I- yes, of course you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve researched on some of the homepages the agency gave me and… holy shit, Yura, I want to take you with me right now. I can’t stand the thought of you going back to Russia.”

“I have to. Finland’s delivering sh- like you know, they hand them over to Russia. The most secure I would be is either in Germany or Ireland, but if I were to go there now, I’d have no political protection.”

“I know, I know, it’s just…” Suddenly Yuri’s lips were on his and he was reciprocating before Yuri threw himself backwards again. He didn’t remember if he’d leaned forward or if Yuri had taken the step, but true to his Canadian blood he was the first to apologize.

“Oh my god, Yura, I’m sorry! This isn’t- ! I mean-” he was stopped by Yuri’s giggle, the first time he’d heard it again after Nikolai’s death.

“I can’t believe that happened. Holy fuck!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Uh, please, don’t feel like you owe me anything, because- ouch!”

Yuri had slapped him playfully on the arm, in the dim light Jean could make out a smile. “Idiot. You know we can’t do anything now… but I’m not opposed to discuss this later, okay?”

“I-” slowly a breathless smile crept on Jeans lips as well, “yeah. Sounds good. I look forward to it.”

 

\--

 

A month later Yuri packed his luggage for Skate Canada. His heart was heavy, and he had to stop himself from packing too much, leaving behind what was essentially his whole life. He’d already said his goodbyes to Potya and the neighbours in Moscow. They didn’t know what exactly was going on, only that he would not come back. He wasn’t the first and would probably not be the last.

He’d always thought himself to be a good actor, but his sorrow and fear must’ve bled out of his persona since Yuuri noticed his sad mood.

Yuri took one last look at the room he’d been occupied at Lilia’s home since before his senior debut and shut the door. Just as he went to heave his luggage down the staircase, his phone rang. It was a number from Moscow and after some consideration, he picked up.

It was his family doctor from Moscow. “Yuratchka, hi, how are you? I just wanted to ask how your ankle’s doing? I heard you’re leaving for your first qualifier, right? Well, good luck with that! I’ll cheer for you! Oh, I wanted to tell you, do you remember the little woods behind your house? It appears as if a horde of wild boars have started digging there, and they’ve also reached the backyards of some houses. Just be prepared that your grandfather will probably ask you to re-do the entire garden when you come home for the summer.”

Yuri thanked the Doctor and told him his ankle was as good as new and that he would rather hire a gardener than to do it himself.

He hung up and suddenly his palms were so soaked, he couldn’t really grasp the handle of his luggage anymore. Essentially the doctor had told him that his grandfather’s grave had been found by the government, and the clock was now ticking for him.

He went down and got into Yakov’s van together with Lilia, driven by one of the other skater’s who wouldn’t fly with them. At customs he thought his life was over when the border officer asked him if he was that skater Yuri Plisetsky. His heart hammered in his throat, and he felt cold sweat all over him. The officer smirked and asked if he could get a autograph. Never had his fingers trembled like they did now. While sitting in front of the gate, his feet wouldn’t stay still and he saw an agent of the Shifter Agency behind every man in a suit, sending his heart twisting and his guts churning.

“Yuratchka, you don’t look good. If you’re about to get sick, maybe you should stay home?” Yakov asked as he noticed the distinct green sheen around Yuri’s nose.

“No!” he yelled way louder than necessary. “I mean, don’t worry old man, it’s just nerves. Since my legs are that ridiculous length, I’m just dreading flying coach, okay?”

“Don’t worry, Yurio! When you’re as important as I am, then you’ll be rich enough for an upgrade, too!”

“Oh, fuck off, Victor. Literally nobody thinks you’re that important anymore!”

Yakov seemed to be satisfied with the answer and Yuri’s usual display of charming character. He nodded and got up as boarding began.

Yuri was so afraid, he thought he would die the entire 19 hours of flight, including every pass through customs during every layover. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t drink anything. His body was in constant flight or fright mode, with his heart beating rapidly and his breathing flat and uneven. He tried to hide it and himself under his hood, opting for a black hoodie with no cheetah print anywhere in sight.

When he finally stepped on Canadian soil in Quebec he was so exhausted in body and mind that he couldn’t feel any relief. He’d been in a state of constant fear over the past 27 hours since he’d received the phone call, and by now, he was beyond the point of exhaustion.

He was scheduled to share a room with one of the juniors, but as soon as the boy had passed out from the jetlegg, he grabbed his essentials and padded down the hallways to the room number he’d received via text some minutes ago.

Jean opened the door, and Yuri let himself fall forward as his legs gave out under him. All he could smell was Jean, and it felt warm and familiar and like not-fear.

Yuri slept for 13 hours straight, scaring Jean with how unresponsive the Russian was. When he woke up he was still afraid. He still wasn’t in the hands of the Canadian government and there was still the chance of Russian agents abducting him far away from anyone's eyes.   
But he was so close to his goal. He only had to skate through this competition, and for now, he felt the energy and drive to face whatever would be thrown at him. He wasn’t alone anymore.

 

\--

 

Canada | Back in the present

“Yuri, I’m so so sorry. I cannot express it in words. I- what you had to endure… and I had no idea! I mean, I noticed you were hurting, but never… oh gosh,” Yuuri buried his face in his hands, his cheeks tear-stained and his mind exhausted after Yuri had come to the end of his story.

“It’s okay, Katsudon.Calm your panties.”

“It’s not okay! Yuri, you’re my friend, and you had to go through that, and I hadn’t even realized and couldn’t help you!”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “If you would’ve realized anything, you would’ve put me in danger, so you played your part.”

“But Yuri, you were in danger! I mean, you got shot!”

“I’d rather get shot then caught, so it’s a small price really.”

Yuuri nodded and tried to dry his glasses with his shirt only to smudge them further. “What would’ve happened if you were caught? I mean, you took quite some measures to come here, but-”

“I would’ve either been executed on the spot or transported to a concentration camp where they use shifters for all- okay, you know what? If you really want to know, look it up. Shifter’s Watch is a good point to start. But don’t use the internet in Russia or they’ll find you, okay?”

“O-okay, I’ll look it up. I-I want to understand what’s really going on.”

“My precautions were probably not detected, otherwise they wouldn’t have barged into a hotel lobby with just a handful of men. They didn’t know they would be countered by the Canadian forces or else they would’ve tried to catch me in a dark alley or sedate me in a locker room. I’ve heard way too many stories.”

“And what happens now?” Yuuri asked timidly.

Yuri tried to shrug again, but his hurt shoulder drew another hiss out  of him. “I wait for that government guy to show up and make me a Canadian citizen. You’ll probably fly back to your idiot-fiancé, though I would actually advise you to visit your family for some time. I’m not sure how welcome you are after your stunt with staying here for my sake, Katsudon.”

As if on cue a polite knock could be heard, and Jean opened the door. Behind him Yuri could see Phichit trying to catch a glimpse of him, waving enthusiastically as their eyes met.

“Don’t worry, I’ve instructed him to lay very low on this, Yura,” Jean said in lieu of a greeting.

“I’ll first believe it when I see it. Or rather not see it?”

“Here, I’ve got the bag you asked me to retrieve,” he said after nodding politely to Yuuri. He handed a black messenger bag with a combination lock to Yuri. “It was in the locker box like you said.”

Yuri nodded and fumbled one armed with the lock. Somehow he clumsily opened the bag and tried to hold back a smirk at Yuuri’s gasp and Jean’s whistle. He’d produced a handful of gold chains from the bag, some elegant like a woman’s jewelry, some heavy and intended for a man to wear. Several cuffs and earrings were in there as well.

“What’s the sudden treasure?”

Now he allowed himself a self-satisfied smirk. This part of their plan had succeeded without a hitch at least. “That’s all of my worldly possessions. All of my winnings went to Deda, and we continued to do so after I turned 18. He took the money and changed it into gold. Since January, I’ve been arranging for this to be sent over several ways to Canada, so I won’t be without a financial cushion here. It’s not like I can transfer money from my Russian bank account, can I? And any big transfer would’ve tipped the authority off, so we had to do it slowly. I still lost a lot, but for all I care they can suffocate on the rubles!”

“But why jewelry?” Yuuri asked still in awe.

“It’s gold, and gold’s universally valuable everywhere in the world.”

Yet another knock was heard, and Agent Derosh poked his head into the room. Yuuri couldn’t understand him as he was speaking French, but he sensed his time with Yuri was up.

“I need to go, right?” he asked sadly. He had seen, among all of the glittering stuff, a small familiar lion figurine and his heart had swelled.

“I fear so. He’s asked to speak to the two of us alone, but he’s giving us a few minutes to say goodbye,” Jean answered for him.

“Can we… can we stay in contact?”

“Yeah, sure, but for the time being only when you’re in Japan with a phone that has never been in Russia… it’s just… the Shifter Agency is really nasty towards those who support… people like me.”

“It’s ok, I understand,” Yuuri tried to put on a brave smile, but saying goodbye to Yuri felt final.

“Wait!” suddenly Yuri had grabbed his arm. “When or if you go back to Petir… could you please… check on Potya? Make sure she’s safe?”

Now Yuuri looked confused, but it only made sense for Yuri to be worried about his beloved cat. “Uh, sure, of course! Do you think-”

“I know Lilia would never deliberately hurt her, but she’s the pet of a fugitive… I’ve told her to run away, but I’m not sure… she’s so loyal!” Yuuri took Yuri’s hand from his arm and squeezed it reassuringly.

“I will do what I can, I promise. But I have to ask… is Potya also a shifter?”

He wasn’t prepared for Yuri to suddenly blush. “No, she’s not. She’s a normal cat… but uhm… she… uhm… she kinda thinks of me… as her kitten…” Yuuri’s mind was instantly filled with the pictures of the house cat in the Novosibirsk zoo that was given a Lynx kitten to raise and was  quick to picture Potya on top of a grown tiger, grooming him as if he were a small baby.

“Oh my gosh, that’s just adorable!” Jean all but squealed and Yuri was quick to slap his chest.

“It’s not!”

“Sooo, does that mean… you can talk to cats? Like, the fangirls were right?”

Yuri’s dramatical eye roll sure had stayed the same. “No, you idiot pig. But a cat can read the body language of another cat, right?”

“I guess?”

The knock sounded again and this time agent Derosh entered, but stood politely next to the door, waiting for Yuuri to excuse himself.

Yuuri was quick to hug Yuri before the younger one could protest. “When I first moved to St. Petersburg, that tiger in the alley, that was you, right? This is why I can’t abandon you, Yuri. You’ve always tried to protect those around you. You’re not alone. No matter what happens I will always be your friend!”

“You’re such a sap, Katsudon,” Yuri whispered, not trusting his voice any more.

“Take care of him, Leroy, or I’ll find you make you wish you were never born,” Yuuri stated in a very serious voice. Jean visible froze for a second but answered Katsuki’s threat with a sharp nod. The agent next to the door had to fight his smile as Yuuri finally left the room

“Well then, Monsieur Plisetsky, it is my pleasure to hand you your new passport and greet you as a brand new citizen of the glorious country of Canada,” he extended his left hand so Yuri could shake it clumsily with his non-injured one. He handed over a folder which contained all of his necessary documents. 

“As discussed previously, you’re obligated to provide proof once a month that you’re in contact with the person that vouched for you, this would be of course Monsieur Leroy in this case. That stands for the next 12 months. We also ask that you start your assigned work, of course only after you’ve fully healed. If you feel you’re not mentally prepared, we’ll provide you with a psychological evaluation and a place at a practise that specializes in post traumatic stress disorder in refugees, if you wish so. Part of your discussed duties include at least one participation at the Olympic games under the Canadian flag as well as providing assistance to and/or participating with the Canadian National Skating Team. Assistance can include coaching, choreography and other supporting roles and will be decided by the national team’s management staff. You’re required to offer your talents from now on for the next ten years.

“In exchange, the Canadian government offers you full citizenship, including full access to healthcare and statutory pension, payment for your deeds by the official wage plan and most importantly, protection for all of your international activities, may they be sports-related or private, with the obvious exclusion of Russia.”

Jean and Yuri were impressed with how Derosh rattled all of that out without the need to breathe.

“Of course,” Yuri said slowly and carefully. “I’m very thankful to the Canadian government for their offer and help. I’ll do everything I can to repay my debt.”

Jean wrinkled his nose. He knew Yuri was not exactly thrilled. From his point of view, the government had gotten a bigger bite from the cake, effectively chaining Yuri to work for them exclusively, no matter what. But as Yuri’d told him earlier: anything was better than being dead.

“What are your plans for now?” agent Derosh asked. His official persona had slipped, and he seemed genuinely interested. Yuri opened his mouth and closed it again. He’d only ever thought about defecting and how he’d work for the Canadian Skating Union, but he never really considered what would happen directly after getting the citizenship. His world suddenly flipped upside down as some part of his conscious mind realized for real that yes, he’d successfully fled Russia to safety, and that all of his worries should be over. But neither did he feel safe nor was the fear gone. Some part of him began spiraling down, wondering if he’d ever be not a refugee.

“I’ve arranged for Yuri to come and live with my family and I to start. So, we can also make sure that we stay in contact as you require.”

Jean’s family lived on the outskirts of Montreal with a decently sized rink and their own skating school within walking distance of the house. As much as as it pained Yuri to admit it, the Leroys could be considered skating royalty, having produced a lot of gold medal winners and international champions over the last few decades. With the training school of Nathalie and Alain, their success has only grown. The Canadian Skating Union would probably assign Yuri to their school, the potential of the addition of the Russian system was way too high to let it go to waste.

“That is, of course, only until he’s decided what to do aside from skating,” Jean continued, and Derosh appeared to be delighted by the idea. Yuri though didn’t really know what to think of it, but what chance did he have? At least Jean was his friend, even if he was making decisions for him right now.

He’d pleaded to be discharged on the same day after some discussion with his medical team. As he opened the door of a smart, red sports car for Yuri, Jean told him that he’d already sent their stuff home with his parents while Yuri’d been unconscious. He continued to chatter non stop on their four hour ride from Quebec city to the Leroy family estate with Yuri mostly silent and unresponsive, his head leaned against the window as he watched the unfamiliar countryside flipping by.

When he finally parked next to what looked like a family van, their muscles were stiff and the gravel under their shoes sounded uncomfortable loud.

“Come, I’ll introduce you to everybody. Mom and the aunts are thrilled to have you here. Maman!” he called as he closed the front door behind them. Yuri heard movement within the house from several feet tripping over themselves and the laughter and squeaks of children from the upper floor. However, he didn’t hear the middle-aged figure of Nathalie Leroy approach as she rounded a corner and stood suddenly in front of them.

“Yuri,” she greeted gently after taking a good look at the boy for the first time. Her motherly instinct kicked in almost immediately when she saw how scared and lost he still was. Hee was stock still and taut, ready to bolt at any given moment, and clearly uncomfortable with her son’s hand on the small of his back. She really needed to teach him better.

Carefully, she took a step forward which only caused the boy to flinch and the colour to drain even further from the already pale face. Oh yes, so very much afraid, traumatized even.

“Welcome to our home, is it okay if I call you Yuri?” she asked as she took a step back, signaling that she meant neither harm nor threat. The boy nodded sharply but refused to let his guard down. “We’ve prepared the upper floor of the guest house for you. It’s not much, but please feel at home with us. Jean-Jacques is living at the ground level, so whenever you need something, he’s there to help you. Take as much time as you want. It’s our Christian duty to help those in need; never think you’re required to repay us, ok?”

The boy only regarded her with those impossibly coloured eyes.

“Jean-Jacques, a word?” she was already gesturing her son to the kitchen, whispering to him in low Quebecois. “Would you please for the love of god give that boy some space?”

“But Maman, I’m only trying to help?”

“Don’t you have eyes? Can’t you see he’s deeply traumatized from this whole ordeal? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d refuse to talk or eat for days. So please, be patient. Let him set the pace, ok?”

“But he was fine this morning? I mean he talked and acted normally.”

Nathalie prayed for a little bit of patience, reminding herself that her son had been born into a time where the Canadian law wouldn’t capture and put him in reservations like she’d feared in her youth. “From what you’ve told me, he’d been in a state of constant fear for a really long time, even losing his grandfather. One part of his mind must realise he’s safe by now, but the other part can’t let his caution go. And suddenly he’s here where it’s warm and smells of us, but when he came from in Russia, he probably learned to never ever let his guard down. This confusion is probably only adding to his trauma. Also I think he’s still really exhausted after competition and after being shot.”

Jean nodded slowly, taking in what his mother just told him and scolding himself mentally. Of course Yuri wouldn’t just stand up and act as if nothing had happened. He’d been so used to the impenetrable mask of the blonde man that he thought the possibility of Yuri showing weakness was slim to none. But now that he thought about it, it was a miracle he’d stayed upright and somewhat sane for so long.

“Yura?” Jean called gently, still startling him as he studied the pictures in the entrance hall of the main house. “I’ll show you the guest house now, ok? Maman has already brought most of your luggage into your room.” Taking his mother’s advice, he stayed at a respectable distance, and Yuri nodded his agreement.

The guesthouse was on the other end of the backyard of the Leroy estate. The now snow-covered grass made a good football field during summer and the empty pool held promise of warmer days. Yuri knew that Jean lived with his parents during the main season but had a little condo in the center of Montreal for when he had to attend classes. The guest house was an old farm worker house that'd been renovated some years ago. The main level consisted of a small kitchen and bathroom, a bigger living room, and a small bedroom. The upper level held the master bath and two bedrooms. 

“This is your room. I’m sorry if Maman touched your stuff, but I couldn’t really stop her,” he opened the door and gestured for Yuri to step in. Hesitantly he took a look around in the nondescript bedroom. The heat was turned up, but it all held the smell of dust and laundry detergent. He’d smuggled the contents of all of his luggage into Jean’s room after the gala, filling his suitcases with stones and towels. Jean’s mother had already put his meager collection of clothes into the wardrobe and had put all of the knick knacks Yuri had been able to save around the room. The photo of his grandfather stood at his bedside table as well as a little asian lion figure. A cat plush looking like Potya sat on the cushion and a comfortable looking hand crocheted blanket was draped over the comforter. Yuri took it to his nose and inhaled deeply.

“I’ll let you settle in, ok? If you need anything I’m downstairs. Please feel free to raid the fridge.” He tried not to feel too disappointed when Yuri didn’t answer him, but instead sat down with his back to him.

Jean didn’t know all of Yuri’s channels of smuggling stuff out of Russia, but a few of his worldly possessions had reached him via mail. The return addresses varied between several countries, and the labels were always automatically printed. This was how he’d received a photo book which he knew must contain Yuri's family history, but Jean had opted out of respect not to take a peak, the gold medal from Yuri’s first Grand Prix in the senior division and some other stuff that'd felt strangely personal when Jean unpacked them. All in all it was just a handful of possessions. His mother had tried her best, but it wasn’t nearly enough to fill the room. Jean couldn’t fathom how Yuri must feel after losing everything he’d ever known or owned.

Yuri heard the door close and Jean softly padding down the staircase. He didn’t know why he’d reacted that way, but everything in him screamed at being cautious, looking for danger and defending himself. Even though he knew the chances were slim to none that he would get kidnapped from the Leroy family home, his mind couldn’t calm down yet and his body was telling him another story. His heart burned painfully after getting a whiff of the faint tobacco scent of his grandfather from the blanket his Babulya had crocheted shortly after his birth and his limbs turned to lead. It was only late afternoon yet his shoulder throbbed and the bed looked more and more inviting.

Jean went down to the kitchen and checked the fridge. Somebody had stocked it to the brim as a welcome present for their guest. His extended family had to be coerced into tolerating Yuri in their home, but he knew his aunts. It would only take them like a week to come to terms with adopting yet another stray. He knew Yuri could be… prickly at best, but he just hoped he would fit in nicely. 

Jean would start to train again the day after tomorrow, thankfully the rink was just down the street, yet he hoped Yuri would at least be talking again by then. He made dinner and put a plate designated for Yuri in the fridge on eye level, went to his evening stretches and sent his mother a text not to expect them for today. She replied that he should take it easy, give Yuri his space and to be at the main house 7 am sharp for breakfast and briefing of the training schedule for the NHK.

His thumb hovered over his phone unsure if he was ready for all of the questions; as discussed prior he’d shut off his phone the whole day the handover should’ve been, calling his father’s phone from one of the landlines in the hospital and only switching it on the day Yuri was discharged. He had logged out of all of his accounts beforehand, but he knew that at least Bella would’ve tried to contact him after the competition.

Most people wouldn’t believe it, but breaking the engagement has been the single best thing that had ever happened to him. The rest of the season after his breakdown at the GPF was an up and down and it became clear the stress and expectations were slowly wearing him down. He didn’t want to admit it at first, stubborn to keep up the image of the undefeatable king, but Bella had dragged them to a couple’s therapist even though they weren’t even married yet. After several long and gruelling sessions they’d come to the conclusion: yes, he loved Isabella Yang. Did he want to marry her? No. Would he be happy to have her in his life forever? Definitely! Did he love her the way a boyfriend loved his girlfriend. No, probably not. 

She spent the summer in London for an fashion design internship, he went to Haiti with his charity organization and helped children who’d lost their families in the earthquake by teaching them music. When they both came back to Montreal they’d been ready and able to go back to being friends and it had been the most liberating and encouraging thing he’d ever experienced. His season after the break up was one of his best, further cementing the rightness of their decision. They still lived door to door in Montreal and she was a frequent guest at his family’s home, but she was way more valuable as his friend than his wife. For them it had worked out, even though nobody really believed it.

Jean tapped on the messaging app and his phone nearly vibrated out of his hand. There were a lot of unknown numbers as well as many people messaging him more than once. He scrolled down and tried not to look to closely, but some like Leo’s ‘ _ You better explain yourself- _ ’ or one like ‘ _ You disgust me if you- _ ’ just popped in his field of vision.

Bella: Sorry, can’t come to the gala. My prof just mssgd me back for my paper. Have fun!

Bella: Uhm why did three of my students ask me if you’ve smuggled a tiger out of Russia?

Bella: Ok, I read the tabloids. Avoid them until you’re ready. If Yuri is with you, keep him away from the internet. The backlash is immense. If you need me to come over I will.

This was why he still loved Bella. She still took care of him and was willing to help him no matter what.

 

\--

 

Jean sat in his bed with a cup of tea on his bedside table and the first volume of The Night Watch in his lap. Usually he would browse the internet until he got tired, but he didn’t feel ready just yet to face the news.   
He’d just turned a page when his ears detected a faint whimper from upstairs. He looked towards the ceiling and heard it again.

He padded back upstairs and halted in front of Yuri’s door, straining his ears again as he heard little cries and shuffling from inside.

“Yuri?” he knocked on the door, “Yuri are you awake? I’m coming in now.” He gently opened the door and peeked into  the guest room. Yuri’s legs had tangled in the comforter, but his upper body twisted as he threw his head left and right. When Jean stepped to the bed he saw in the dim light how Yuri’s hair was dark with sweat and how tears streamed down his temple.

“Yura!” he called again but the other was obviously tight in the grip of his nightmare.

“Yura, you have to wake up, you’re having a nightmare!” Jean gently tried to grab his shoulder to shake him out of it, but as soon as he made skin contact Yuri’s eyes flew open and his world tilted over. He felt sharp claws pressing on his chest, flipping him over and his head collided painfully with the thankfully fluffy carpet. The air was pressed out of his lungs and nearly 200 kilo of tiger prevented him from taking another breath, he looked past fingerlong yellow teeth into bright greenblue slitted eyes.

The moment seemed to drag on forever, but eventually the weight lifted from his chest and the claws changed into hands, equally desperately grabbing his shirt. Yuri’s eyes were full blown taking in most of the white, his stripes starkly visible on his pale skin and his breath came in loud open mouthed gasps.   
Jean dared to finally inhale slowly yet it still startled Yuri, who pushed himself away from Jean to huddle into himself by the foot of the bed. Jean massaged his stinging scalp as he cautiously sat up.

“Yura,” he started, “Yura, you had a nightmare and I think you’re having a panic attack now. Everything is alright. You’re in Canada, you’re safe. We are in my house, you’re here because you’ve escaped. You’re safe,” he repeated again. “I’m going to take your hand now, ok?” He took Yuri’s uninjured and and gently placed it over his own heart. “Come on, breath with me, ok? Inhale, one, two, three, exhale. Slowly, you’re doing good. Everything is alright, you’re safe.” He guided Yuri through his attack until his breathing had evened out again.

“There you go, do you know where you are?” A nod, even though he was still shaking.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He shook his head.

“It’s ridiculous,” he would tell him weeks later when they came back to his first night in Montreal, “I’ve never shifted out of panic or because I’ve been provoked. Like, seriously, never! Otherwise I would’ve been dead by now! And then I’m finally safe, in a secured house, surrounded by people on my side and… fuck, Jean, I don’t think I’ve ever been that afraid!”

“Maybe it was because you finally allowed yourself to really feel the fear you were experiencing? Everything was over and it finally broke out. I think that’s very healthy, helping you to heal, you know?”

Tonight though Yuri appeared to inconsolable so Jean did the only thing he thought would help. Never before had he shifted in front of somebody he wasn’t related to, may it be through blood or through marriage. In comparison to Yuri he got lucky, he didn’t have to suppress the telltale stripes whenever he got agitated or did something physically strenuous, he could grow a tail, if he concentrated hard enough. But other than that it was black and white for him, either human or animal. So when he shifted now after shedding his clothes it was fast and eager and nothing of his human self remained. 

Yuri’s breath hitched audible as the giant beast nosed its way into his personal space and with a relieved sigh he buried his head in the thick and warm mane, body finally going still. The lion rolled its massive body around him, cushioning its head on Yuri’s lap.

After some time he coerced Yuri back onto the bed, following the insisting grabby hands and allowed it to be pulled under the blanket. Curled up next to him the blond boy finally drifted off to sleep.

 

\--

 

Approximately 900km away Yuuri Katsuki and Phichit Chulanont held each other in a tight embrace while crying violently.


	6. CHAPTER V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, the majority of the tags is here because of this specific chapter.  
> Please proceed with caution. There will be description of human experimentation, torture and concentration camps.
> 
> You will get a warning within the text.
> 
> I do wish I had the skills to change my AO3 form to use different fonts, but sadly I'm an idiot who can't do that v,v

Detroit | November 5th 2019

After Yuri’s warning not to return to Russia as of now, he’d discussed his plan of action with Phichit. The Thai skater was fast to invite him to Detroit, affirming him that Celestino  would help him if he’d explain himself. They boarded the train and stumbled dead tired in the skater’s apartment around midnight. He had messaged Victor earlier stating that he would stay at least a weak longer with Phichit and had received a simple ‘ok’ in return. His fear for his boyfriend, no matter how stupid and hurtful he’d acted, spiked high at the single word answer.  
After breakfast and waking up, in that order, Yuuri grabbed Phichit’s laptop and started, as he’d promised, his research. He started with the homepage of Shifter Watch, an organization brought to live in the 1970s when the first countries had started to recognize shifters as humans.

_“Kelpies, Werewolfs, Kitsune, the number of stories and fairy tales in which we encounter seemingly sentient animals are innumerable and known throughout every continent and culture. Most of the times those beings stuck to themselves in the tales and when interacting with normal humans were either helpful or harmful.  
Today we know them under the term Shifter, people able to change their form in to that of an animal and by the WHO collection of 2016 they make approximately 0,9-1,14% of the human population carry the ability to shift. In whole numbers that is about between 650000-700000 people. To make it even more approachable: If you’d take 100 random people from all over the world and put them into one room there’s the good chance that there is at least one shifter among them. You see, it’s not so far away, is it? _

_Let us state the first things first: **Shifters are not Dangerous, Shifters are not more aggressive than normal people, Shifters do not harm people!** _

_As numerous as the animal kingdom as divers are the kinds of Shifters and not every rule applies to every individual._

_Yet there are some similarities: a) is the most obvious one: a person can shift partially or completely into an animal b) no shifter can shift into more than one animal c) the ability to shift can be hereditary, is sometimes able to vanish or to jump several generations and d) the origin of shifter families can usually traced to the natural habitat of the animal they can shift into._

_The majority of shifters tend to shift into chordates, with only a few cases known where individuals shifted into an arthropod. There are no reported case in which people could shift into any other phylum of the animal kingdom. And even if Dryads and Tree Sprites are as numerous in the tales as sentient animals shifters cannot shift into any kind of plant life._

_Even if shifters tend to keep to their own they have always lived together with humans without causing famine, plagues or killing people, quite the contrary as every shifter has at least once in his life received a death threat against their person._

_History gives us many examples of how harmonically humans and Shifters lived side by side, but also how Shifters would be degraded, enslaved or downright killed on the spot.  
Most people probably now about the Golden Menagerie of King Louis XIV of France, who was famous for having a whole zoo of shifters of any kind in the gardens of Versailles. _

_Today most countries recognize shifters. Too few though grant them human rights and in way too many countries shifter have to fear for their lives just because they’re born with an additional talent._

_For donating to Shifter’s Watch click here  . _

 

_ The Science behind Shifting  |  Shifters in Europe  |  Known Shifters  |  Shifters throughout History  _

 

It was more less what Yuuri already knew. In Japan Shifters were more or less ignored. The government didn’t recognize them as humans per se, but that was because it kind of didn’t even acknowledge their existence. It was horribly backwards and total inclusion all in one. Shifters have played a huge part in Japanese folklore and were worshipped even. Today though you weren’t able to find a job if you couldn’t hide your shifting or your children could be excluded from schools if they shifted accidentally.  But if you could hide it? Then everything was possible for you without fearing anything. Japan treated shifters like any other kind of people with an visible disability, don’t look at them, don’t interact, don’t ask questions, just fit in.

Yuuri had more than a few questions though and so he clicked on The Science behind Shifting. Phichit had gotten up himself and had fulfilled the demand of the revolting masses, aka he’d fed his hamsters who were now gathered in the hood of his sweater happily munching on their seeds.

 

_Even with today’s high standard in science we’re still not really able to grasp what lies behind shifting. Horrible and inhuman experiments have tried to undermine the mechanisms and science behind shifting. We wish we could say that these experiments lie in the past, but sadly they’re still ongoing (for further information follow Shifters In China and Russia  ) and it’s one the main goals of Shifter Watch to end these experiments once and for all. _

_There have been a lot of free researchers though, who use voluntarily donated tissue and blood samples, some of the the researchers are even shifters themselves, and we base our information here solely on their findings ._

_First of all: there is no “bad blood” in shifters and interacting with any kind of bodily fluids cannot turn you into a shifter, debunking the myth of the werewolf effectively. Several shifters have donated blood sample and cheek swaps and after a research project using Next Generation Sequencing by the University of Heidelberg in Germany they’ve come to the following conclusion: there are no genetical markers detectable if the shifter is completely shifted. Meaning you cannot detect any human DNA if the shifter is completely in his or her animal form and vice versa. This may also be a hint why the vast majority of shifters are able to shift into a chordate as our genetical code is very similar throughout the whole animal kingdom. As a small comparison: you have 99,9% the same genes as the person next to you, 96% of our genes are the same as a chimpanzee’s genes, 90% we share with cats and 60% we share with bananas.  
When the person is partially shifted, that’s a different question of course. _

_What can be detectable though in both forms and everything in between are a huge group of enzymes (called SEE shifter endemic enzyme) exclusively found in shifters, hinting at a total gene independent regulatory metabolism. Similar systems are known in editing factors of mitochondrial genes and independently acting proteins after undergoing post translational modification._  
_These enzymes can be sorted into 4 main groups along with several isotypes and their true mode of action is yet to be determined. In vitro shifting is still a thing of the future._  
_Several countries like China, Chile, Russia and as of so late the USA, use synthetically manufactured enzymes that mimic the molecular structure of SEEs to determine the shifter status of a person. This is for one not only highly invasive in terms of personal rights, it’s also dangerous and painful. Once injected or orally consumed the artificial SEEs trigger a signal cascade within the natural SEEs which results into a forced shifting; this is not only slow but also very painful. The further risks of allergic reactions to the synthetic enzymes are statistically significantly high and there are several reports of shifters dying from an anaphylactic shock after being forcefully injected with artificial SEEs._  
_If a non-shifting human is injected with SEEs he’ll experience a very painful injection, followed by a significant swelling of the surrounding area and an week long ongoing pain._

_There are many things we do not know yet: if there are no genetical markers, how is shifting hereditary and how can it jump several generations? How can an inbetween status be uphold? What happens with the body mass during shifting? When a man shifts into an elephant, where does he take the additional molecules to grow several times his size? Where does the mass go when he becomes a hedgehog? (Click here to go our section for Historical Shifters for a story of the famous elephant shifter from Karthago, Hannibal, the bane of Rome)_

_We can just hope that consensual research will bring us more answers, that will help us to build a mutual understanding and a healthy society with both shifters and humans alike._

 

_ Shifters in China and Russia  |  Shifters as biological weapons  |  Weaponization of Shifter  s |  Goal of Shifter Watch  _

 

“You said they shot Yuri with some kind of dart, right? Do you think that was one of these artificial enzymes?” Phichit, who’d read over his shoulder, asked while trying to contain the fleeing hamsters.

“Has to be,” Yuuri mumbled cupping one of the small rodents into his hollow hand. “I mean, he was screaming in pain most of the time, but there was a lot of blood and I’m pretty sure they shot him with a real bullet first. But he did develop the tail after the dart.”

“Wow, I never would’ve thought, I mean, when you read it, sure they’re not so rare as we’re told they are, but imagining somebody we know harbours such a secret?”

Yuuri nodded absentmindedly, the cursor hovering over the link Shifters in China and Russia, a sudden dread in his guts. It was still kind of hard to wrap his head around it, to bring the blond boy who’d been his hardest rival, his friend who trained day in and day out for years next to him, to bring him on the same page as the still unfamiliar concept of shifters. He’d seen the tail and the light white stripes on Yuri’s skin, but his mind refused to synch him to what he’d just read.

 

_PLEASE PROCEED WITH CARE_

_Shifter Watch wants to educate and to get rid of prejudices against shifters, but also to uncover and denounce what’s still common practice in countries who regard shifters as subhuman.  
We do NOT want to scare you or traumatize you, so please scroll down with care. The following pictures and videos contain highly cruel and potentially traumatizing content. _

 

Yuuri swallowed with a sudden sense of determination in him. He clicked on a video which first showed a wall of text.

 

_\--This film material was obtained by revolutionary forces of international shifter activist, who essentially risked their life while filming it. The person has managed to apply for a handler position within a Russian research facility in Jakuts, Russia, which also contains the main concentration center for Russian shifters. All spoken and written words have been translated to English by Russian native speakers and will be provided as subtitles.--_

_The camera showed a middle aged man, with a impressive mustache, clad in a dark grey working uniform, marching towards the camera._

_“Hello, you must be Ivan Sergovich, I’m Boris Mikhailovich, I’m in charge of the handlers, welcome to the Jakutsk Animal Detention Facility. I’m here to give you the tour.” An arm extended from the right corner and hands were shook. It was obvious the camera had to be hidden somewhere on Ivan’s upper body._

_“Thank you Boris Mikhailovich, I’m glad to be here and do my part.”_

_They go over a vast concrete area and head into a small hangar where an elevator brings them down._

_“This is the taming area. Every caught animal starts here. We need to get them to acknowledge us as their better. They’re mostly wild and uncooperative, but they learn soon enough to behave and not to talk and intimidate real humans any longer. You’ll be probably stationed here first, we need to see how capable you are in handling them. They sometimes do look like humans, so it can be hard in the beginning.”_

_“How do you get them to understand?” Ivan asked as the camera looked left and right. It looked like a very dirty cell trakt with several wire mesh doors next to each other._

_“Let me go!” the camera wobbles as Ivan is startled by the man to his left who threw himself against the bars. He was naked and had a wild and desperate look in his eyes. “You have to let me go! I’m a banker! I have money! I can pay you whatever you want! I- AAAAARGH!”_

_Boris Mikhailovich had thrust an electrical rod between the mesh, releasing a charge directly against the man’s skin. He howled in pain, thrown backwards from the door, but the electric rod was relentless. The cries shifted from that of a human to panicked bird cries and a crow flattered through the small cell. After a third burst from the rod he was reduced to a weakly cawing lump of feathers at the bottom._

_“Just like this. First thing we teach them is not to talk. They won’t get clothes, that’s for humans only, of course. The rod is very good for the beginning, teaches them fear from their betters. We also starve them a little bit, at first, makes them weaker. Sleep deprivation and constant light exposure also does wonders.”_

_“And they really respond to that? Doesn’t it make them just even more angry?”_

_Boris shrugged. “Some, of course. When it’s the predators. Those are hard. When it’s obvious they can’t be tamed we have to decide. Predators mostly go to the base level, but when it’s just a really defected beast, we usually put them down without bothering much.”_

_“Why bothering with taming? They’re dangerous, right? I mean, that one was a banker, I don’t want to think about how much people he could’ve harmed in that position. Why not putting them all down?”_

_Boris grinned viciously at that. “Ah, I like how you think. But the smart brains down there have come up with some great usages for them. They’re such a blight, but at least they can be put to a use. Follow me.”_

_The camera passes several more cells, some with a thick plastic instead of a door; the occupants in several states of distress, ranging from despaired and pleading, to frightened and apathetic. They passed the cellblock and opted out of the elevator and instead took the stairs down, all the while Boris explained the facility, where the fire exits were and the toilets for the staff.  
The contrast to the next level was stark, the ugly and dirty walls were exchanged for white tiles and clear floors, the lighting was bright and sterile. _

_“This is Dr. Bramov, he works here with the day shift. Doctor, this is Ivan Sergovich, he’ll support us handlers from now on. Can you tell him a little bit about what we’re doing here?”_

_“Ah, of course, of course. Boris here will be a great supervisor, Ivan Sergovich, don’t worry. You’ll be part of the family in no time.” The doctor gestured for them to follow him as he opened a door and led them to what looked like a medical room. The main part was separated by a plastik wall which bore several biohazard stickers. On the other side on a metal bench lay a young woman strapped down with thick gloves over her hands to the point where she could only wither in the metal braces. She had thin brown hair and from her head sprouted two rabbit’s ears, though they were ragged and damaged. The woman was hooked to several dips and devices in both of her arms and she was obviously very sick, with a high fever running its course, judging from the sweat that darkened her hair. As the man in the cell she was also naked, several bruises and scars visible on her abdomen._

_“We found out that antibodies produced by our special animals are succeeding those from the usual production protocol in several points. The compatibilities are superb, no cross reactions or allergic reactions at all. Also no reduced binding abilities, because the immunoglobulines are so close to human. We’re selling them as the basis of several vaccines, medicines or to research facilities. This one’s an experiment for a new product, but we have a whole production line one level below, I’m sure Boris will show you as well.”_

_“How does this work? I’ve been very interested in biology during school, but I never heard of that?”_

_The doctor smiled benevolent. “We inject them with a bacterial or viral solution, wait for some time and then harvest blood and lymphatic fluids. From those we can extract the antibodies, clean them and then distribute them all over the country.”_

_“Wow, very interesting!”_

_They were lead through yet another door. “It’s really profitable. We found out rabbits and mice work best, but you can also use any kind of even-toed ungulates like goats, but also horses or rodents in general. Most of the animals that are brought to us can be made useful in that way. We’re also interested in researching them. You see, we can’t get rid of them. The Germans have tried and didn’t really succeed. So our goal shifted to use them for our benefit; of course in controlled and appropriate circumstances. One point of research is how they reproduce and maybe even find a cure for those who’re willing to fit in.”_

_The next room occupied yet another naked woman, this time with visible white cat ears and a light tail, she was also chained but laying on her side. The most prominent feature though was that she was heavily pregnant. She was put on a metal bench with only a thin sheet of surgical paper beneath her._

_“My babies… my babies…” she mumbled weekly, to which the doctor shushed her mockingly with a “no imitating humans, kitty”, injecting yet another syringe into the drip she was hooked onto. Her fussing grew more sluggish. “... don’t take them away again…” she then started crying which obviously didn’t affect Boris and the Doctor at all._

_They said goodbye to the Doctor and Boris lead him to yet another elevator. “Last stop before we can go for lunch. There I can introduce you to the rest of shift. Down there it’s actually the oldest project they’ve been working on. That antibody stuff came way later. You know how dangerous they are?”_

_“Of course,” Ivan was heard, “I mean, they can’t control themself, they’re just animals after all. So if one of them can shift, I dunno, in a wolf or a bear? I don’t want my kids to play next to them!”_

_Boris grinned again. “Exactly. You saw how they can use the critters. So also why not using those bears and wolves? Oh, you’re lucky, they’ve started yet another try.” They’d left the elevator and stood in a control room with several men in either lab coats or similar work clothes like Boris. The big glass window lead into a cream coloured room where a single blonde man stood motionless. Ivan moved closer to the window._

_The man was young and heavily underweight, the skin over his joints and ribs tight; his body bore similar scars and wounds like the others, but one side of his head was shorn and an ugly wire and metal device was attached to his head, the wires seemingly leading directly into the young man’s brain. He stood perfectly still, eyes vacant and a thin drop of drool hanging from his unmoving lips._

_One of the researchers, pressed a button and spoke into a microphone. “Subject AL871 take a step forward.” A diode on the metal device blinked and the man took one step forward in a robotic motion._

_Boris stood next to him and whispered as not to disturb the experiment. “They’ve gotten really good at taming the predators and getting them to do what they want. Sadly though the aggression gets lost in the process. They can get a polar bear to sit up and beg, but not to strike. This is why new predators are so sought after.”_

_“Subject AL871, rise your left arm.” He did as he was told._

_“Subject AL871, change.” The shifting was a slow and ugly process and judging by the increased breathing also a painful one._

_The lynx that now stood behind the glass was equally unmoving as the human had been, the short tail , the tufted ears, even the whiskers stood perfectly still. The spottet coat was ragged by scars, some areas devoid of any hair whatsoall; he looked as starved as before._

“Subject AL871, take a step back.  
Subject AL871, sit down.  
Subject AL871, crouch.  
Subject AL871, show aggression.” The lynx’s face twisted into a ferocious mask, but it’s golden eyes were still glassy.

_“Subject AL871, attack!” The wild cat surged forward, but its feet gave out under him and the animal toppled helplessly to the ground. A collective groan could be heard from the surrounding people. Some unknown voice said “we have to break the commands down even further.”_

_“Subject AL 871, change.” The boy the lynx changed into looked like a corpse._

_“Subject AL871, stand up.” He got up slowly and finally the camera could see his lifeless eyes. They were like green marbles-_

 

Yuuri pushed the laptop from his lap with a startled cry, the green dead eyes still seared in his mind as fat and ugly sobs shook him. Phichit, who should’ve been scandalized by Yuuri’s brutal handling of his laptop, only leaned forward to close the computer for good, finally cutting off the still audible voices from the video.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Yuuri knew he was starting to hyperventilate and his hand aimlessly grabbed for his best friend. Phichit’s face was ashen and he looked as if he was about to throw up at any given moment. The two friends lunged for each other, seeking consolation in each other’s tight embrace.

“Yuri, that was Yuri, he looked just like-” Yuuri knew he was blabbering, a weight on his chest and he felt as if he was suffocating.

“It’s not, Yuuri, it’s not. Plisetsky is ok, ok? He has to be. We saw him with JJ, he has to be ok. That wasn’t Yuri!” Phichit couldn’t stop his tears from flowing. For him it had been over when he’d seen that first woman getting injected with so much vile stuff. The doctor who brushed the pleading of a mother for her children aside, even mocking her, had been like a punch to the guts.  
His own home country wasn’t the best either, he knew that. Many shifters were forced into serfdom and debt bondage, chaining them to big cartels and mostly selling them as labor forces and for prostitution. The government didn’t really regard shifters as subhumans, but several amendments stated that there was no punishment for harming shifters and a stronger force of the law when dealing with people who could shift.  
He’d always thought America was better, but he’d been shocked to find out that murder committed against a shifter was punishable by the law only since 2001 in all states. It’s been a huge event when the US finally regarded shifters with human rights just three years ago, even though some celebrities were out with their shifter status and shifters had starred in many movies and were a constant in TV shows.

Phichit wanted to help Yuuri, but his own shock held him in a tight grip and the two skaters sobbed into each other’s arms until they’d exhausted themself. They lay down on his couch, cuddled close like so many times before, though the reasons back then, missed podiums, nasty jumps, appeared to be so mundane to what one of their friends had faced as a threat.

 

\--

 

“Ok, guys, I want you to listen to me,” Phichit said very earnestly to his hamster later that day. “I want to tell you, I love you and if one of you is a shifter, I will do everything to help you and protect you, so please don’t be scared to confide with me.”

“You really think that works?” Yuuri asked gently over his cup of tea. It was barely afternoon and he already felt so exhausted. Victor hadn’t answered his texts asking if he was ok. Celestino had banged on Phichits door, not really surprised to see Yuuri there as well, demanding to know if he’d got himself involved in this somehow. The resulting disputation between the coach and his two skaters had been taxing and tiresome. Celestino was open minded per se, but his upbringing as well as the propaganda he’d been fed was hard to overcome. He wanted to do what was best for his charges, though, and he’d agreed to organize some ice time for Yuuri as well as keeping an eye on him while they were both preparing for the Cup of China, which would be Yuuri’s last and Phichit’s first Grand Prix event.

“Well, Plisetsky has always been a troublemaker, I’m not really surprised. But I know you won’t be happy when I tell you, to steer clear of him,” Celestino had said to Phichit, who’d pranced like an angry bird, trembling with anger.

“Celestino, look, please. The general consensus is that shifters are dangerous because they’re animals and can’t therefor not control themself, right?”

“There are plenty of evidence that-”

“Propaganda. Seriously. You know Yuri Plisetsky, you know him since he’s competed as a 13 year old during Junior worlds. You see how angry he can get, you’ve seen so many of his temper tantrums, of him literally flipping out. But, please, answer honestly. Have you ever seen him really hurting anybody? Has he ever risen your suspicion of him changing into a tiger?!”

Celestino opened his mouth, but closed it soon. It was rare for Phichit to discuss things so earnestly and after thinking about it, he did have a point. “I can see your reasons. But I would still feel better if you’re not getting too close to Plisetsky, if he’s ever going to compete again, that is.”

“He’s not any more dangerous, just because we now know he’s a shifter.” Yuuri intervened calmly.

“Exactly. I mean, of course he’s dangerous, he’s Yuri! He once glued Victor’s hand to his own chest, because he’d mocked him one time too many. He’s dangerous, because he’s Yuri and not because he’s a shifter!”

“Ok, ok, I see you two are invested in this. I will promise to do some research and give it some thought, ok?”

“That’s the only thing we’re asking,” Yuuri said. He longed to call Victor, missing him painfully. He also wanted to talk to Yuri again, making sure he was still ok, maybe even asking JJ how the blond really fared. But for now he was stuck here in Detroit with his best friend, his old coach and three hamsters.

 

\--

 

Yuuri’d stayed in Detroit for three more weeks, training under Celestino, who’d been kind enough to organize his skates from Russia for him. Looking back it had been more than foolish to let the Russian agents take all of his luggage with them. They flew to China for the Cup where he and Victor would meet again. By now he missed Victor so much he temporarily forgot his mean words and hugged him close and tight at the airport. To his credit Victor didn’t look good at all, it was obvious he hadn’t slept well for some time and his eyes were haunted and scared.

“Yuuri, Yuuri, I missed you so much,” he whispered into his hair as he held him close.

“Vitya, what-?”

“Not here, let’s get to the hotel first, ok?” Yuuri could only nod and take Victor’s suitcase as he hailed them a cab.

Much to his surprise Victor took all of his luggage back and put it into the bathroom of their shared hotel room which he exited only clad in one of the hotel robes. Yuuri couldn’t help his critically lifted eyebrow, unsure what his boyfriend was up to.

“Sorry, uhm, Yakov warned us that we’re probably bugged. I- uhm I don’t want anybody to listen to us.”

“I understand. So, uhm, how are you?”

Victor huffed with a humorless smile, combing his hair out of his face. What only a few people knew was how down to earth Victor tended to be when he was alone with him, how open and vulnerable. “Not so good, to be honest. It was… well, let’s just say it wasn’t the most fun time I ever had.”

“What happened after those agents took you from the hotel?”

“It was… I don’t know, I’m used to being handled roughly by the law, you know? But this was something else. They’d escorted us to the airport and we were brought to Moscow with an airplane from the military. I cannot speak for the others, because we were separated and interrogated alone.They took blood samples from everybody, checking for some proteins or stuff, I don’t know. We got injected with some stuff at the airport already and it still hurts so much, Mila’s arm got infected pretty badly after that. They asked us if we’d known for Yuri to be an animal, if we’d ever noticed something strange about him. What his connections were, how we usually handle international competition, if we knew, if we knew, if we suspected. And again and again. After three days answering the same questions over and over again we could finally return to Petir. Lilia’s apartment had been searched, with a lot of stuff missing. The rink had been searched, the Juniors and Georgi had been interrogated as well. Yakov had received a cut from fundings, because we couldn’t prove that we didn’t know and didn’t help him. If anybody who’s associated with the rink is heard to speak on his behalf, we’re facing even stricter cuts. At the passkontroll I’ve been interrogated again and it was just all of the same questions again.”

“I’ve seen the headlines, it obviously wasn’t pretty.”

“Hah, no, it wasn’t” Victor appeared to be so tired Yuuri was glad he scheduled for them to get to China with at least four days in advance to the start of the cup.

“Will it be safe for me? I mean, training in Russia with you?”

“I’ve asked and I think that what earned me those additional interrogations. I think it’s safe, I mean you won’t get arrested or tested, because you’re a Japanese citizen. The United Nations don’t like how Russia’s handling all this animal control thing, so they’re fast to sanction punishments whenever the Animal Control Agency’s acting on citizens from other countries. Now that I think of it, it’s probably why they didn’t bother with you after you resisted.”

“Yuri’s safe, you know?” Yuuri said carefully and his heart sunk as Victor’s face morphed into a soured grimace. “You didn’t ask, but I think you still might want to know. The bullet pierced the shoulder cleanly, but some of the ligaments took some damage-”

“I don’t want to know,” he interrupted him, turning away from Yuuri.

“Vitya, it’s Yuri we’re talking about. The boy who you know since he was 10 years old. He’s our friend, he-”

“He! Is the reason all of this happened to us! He’s the reason why the rink’s funds got cut! I honestly don’t want to hear from him at all.”

“Victor!”

Victor sagged down, cradling his had in his hands, looking utterly exhausted

“No, solnyshko, please, I don’t want to argue. I just want to sleep next to you for like a year, then buy a new wardrobe and then, I promise, we can talk about it, ok?” Victor did look desperate and even if Yuuri did have his doubts right now, he, too, was tired and had missed his boyfriend painfully. So he lay down in the offered arms and tried to relax into the familiar warmth.

“How’s Makka?” he asked after some time in hope to deviate the heavy topic. What he hadn’t expected was for Victor becoming stiff as a board next to him.

“What do you mean …?” he asked very carefully and if Yuuri didn’t know him as good as he did, he wouldn’t have heard the distinct tremor of fear in his voice.

“Uhm, I mean, how’s she doing? She was with the  dog sitter at the animal hotel, right?”

He felt how Victor forced himself to relax, his voice cautious and strained. “She’s great. I have an arrangement with the hotel so they would keep her, even if I didn’t pick her up on the designated date. They went and looked for Potya, so I just left her there.”

“Oh… ok… maybe we can pick her up together? When we get home?”

Victor hugged him tighter. “Yeah.. that would be nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of sorry for the Banana Fish reference here...


	7. CHAPTER VI

The first thing Jean noticed when he got home at the end of the week from his daily on ice session were tracks of a human in the snow leading from the house to the edge of the forest where they changed into that of a big cat.  
Yuri had refused to talk to him or anybody during the last few days. When his mother had stood at the bottom of stairs, bringing his freshly washed laundry, Yuri had scurried as silent as possible into his room, closing the door firmly behind him. He usually sat on the broad window sill, looking out on the snowy landscape, not moving out of his own will and only migrated back into bed when it was already dark outside. Jean suspected he wasn’t eating much even though he always dutifully drank the tea he was brought. If the nightmares got too much, Jean would wake him and they would resume their sleeping conditions from the first night with Yuri snuggled into his mane.   
Yuri still refused to shift, although Jean noticed the urge within the blond. How the stripes would ripple like a wave barely visible over the white skin, like a suppressed shudder.

And now he stood a little bit lost with his duffle bag still slung over his shoulder between the first trees. Unsure of how to proceed he went into the opposite direction and entered the main house through the back door.

“Don’t worry,” his father greeted him with a warm mug of tea. Without honey. When it came to nutritions his father was way stricter than his mother and it was thanks to their combined training regimen that he’d reached the top league of the international competing skaters. Sometimes it was hard for Jean that his parents could be so strict with him, driving him to his limits over and over again.

“What do you mean?”

“Our guest. Yuri.”

“Do you know where he went?” Jean tried not to be put off by his father’s nonchalant shrug.

“No, but I do know that sometimes you have to let them go for them to come back?”

“Papa, you’re going full dad-mode again, stop speaking in riddles.”

A mischievous smile flit over Alain’s feature. “I’m not like you or your mother or your sister, but I do know cats. I’m married to one, after all. And the most prominent feature is that they do not like to show weakness and will sort out their stuff on their own. It’s not a sign of distrust, it’s just how they are. Yuri needs time, he will come back.”

“And if not?” Jeans voice was small as he asked and a wistful look crossed Alain.

“I honestly wouldn’t hold it against him. To be just done with humanity. He wouldn’t be the first.” Jean couldn’t relate, he’d never heard the siren’s call of nature as it had been described by other shifters. Then again he’d never sat foot in the steppe of his ancestor’s homeland. The snowy woods surrounding them were not as cold, but they sure resembled the siberian landscape and maybe they had called Yuri in. His father was right, there were many stories of shifters, especially those who’d escaped slavery and injustice, who were just so fed up with the human world, they never bothered to shift back, living their life as a part of nature.  
Jean and his father shared a moment of silence, both lost in their own thoughts, as they stared at the slowly falling snow.

It was days later without any sign of Yuri when he heard an urgent knock at the backdoor of the guest house. He was already snuggled in bed, his mother had driven him merciless today to tire him out, probably so he wouldn’t worry too much. His first reaction was that of irritation until he remembered who could possibly knock on his door at this time.  
Jean sprinted to the door and teared it open. There, illuminated by the yellow light of the kitchen and obviously frozen to the bone, stood Yuri with clattering teeth. He threw the blond over his shoulder in a fireman grip and was up the stairs before he could even think about it. He put Yuri in the bathtub of the master bath, clothes and all, and aimed the warm spray at his already blue tinted feet.

Yuri cried out at the warm water, which must feel scalding hot to him, he grabbed Jean’s arm as the warm water filled the tub.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as the shivering had finally subsided, his voice rough from disuse.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Princess,” Jean smiled weakly to which Yuri replied by flipping some water in his direction, chuckling lightly. Jean was glad, the atmosphere finally warm and lifted between them for the first time since they’d arrived home. Yuri sighed and sank deeper into the tub, the water level dangerously close to overflowing. The vapour had already tinted the mirrors like milk and the heat warmed the fluffy towel for when Yuri wanted to leave.

“I’m sure you didn’t expect me to be so much trouble.”

“Yura, stop it, please. You’re no trouble. Every reaction… everything you feel is valid, there is no reason for you to justify yourself. I mean it. I want to help you, because you’re my friend and because it’s the right thing to do.”

Yuri looked as if he wanted to say something else, but Jean’s earnest and gentle eyes bore into him and he felt himself rendered speechless.

“You never told me about your family. How did a pride of lions end up in Canada?”

Jean gave a smirk, indicating he would play along to dissuade the topic for now. “Oh, that’s a longer story. Do you want to stay in the tub or should we take that to the couch?”

“Will it be warm?”

“I can offer a ton of blankets, a cup of tea and the magical device that is a hot water bottle.” He playfully wiggled his eyebrows, drawing a snort from Yuri.

“Did you know I’m actually really a descendent of the king of France?”

Yuri had obviously exhausted his quota of words for now, so he just glared mockingly over the brim of his tea cup at Jean.

“No, really! Ok, I will start with the beginning. You know the Golden Menagerie of King Louis XIV from France? It was also part of that one movie from the 90’s. The King has gathered shifters from all over the world, chained them with gold and put them on display in his zoo next to the gardens of Versailles.  
Back then, whatever the king did was considered to be THE latest thing of fashion. So one of the king’s relatives, I think it was a marquise, founded his very own menagerie. The chateau was near Marseilles, which was a very wealthy port town back then and had connections all over the world. The menagerie in Marseilles never grew as big as the one in Versailles, of course, but today it’s one of the oldest zoological gardens. Only for animals, mind that. The Marquis, who was a cousin to the Sun King, collected a handful of shifters from all over Europe and one very valuable gem from North Africa, which was a nameless lioness shifter. Nameless, because she refused to ever tell her name anybody, even though she learned French while she was incarcerated in Marseilles.”

Jean checked if Yuri was still listening, even though he had snuggled under the comforter, his eyes blinked sharp from beneath the fabric. He apparently had rolled himself around the warm water bottle and Jean had to suppress a smirk at the obvious cat-like behaviour.

“And here is where my family history starts. The youngest son of the Marqueis fell in love with the exotic beauty of the lioness, earning her trust and finally her heart. He only called her Lionne, which would later become the name in our documents. Unable to witness her suffering much longer he decided to free her and flee to the family’s land they owned in the colonies of New France. It was a long and dangerous journey, they had to forge documents and play the roles of master and black slave to not raise any suspicions. Finally though they’d arrived in the New World and could marry. A letter from the Marquise arrived just as their first daughter had been born, stating how he’d been disinherited and he and his offsprings were forbidden to ever set foot on French soil ever again. My ancestor, his name was Philippe by the way, was more than happy with that outcome. It meant they wouldn’t be followed anymore and the treasures they’d brought with them from the chateau were enough to provide them and their many daughters with everything they needed. The other French settlers didn’t believe Philippe when he said that he was related to the King of France, so they started to call him _le petite roi_ out of jest. Philippe though was no small man and so the _petit_ was soon disregarded. And over time the family name developed, _le roi_ or butchered to today’s pronunciation Leroy.”

“Oh god, seriously?” a groan could be heard from under the covers. “No wonder you used to be obsessed up with the whole King JJ thing!”

“I was 19 and the song was really catchy!”

“Don’t you dare start singing it right now. I’ll never get it out of my head!”

Jean threw his head back and laughed. Yuri’s aim had proven to be terribly accurate, judging from the many times he’d tossed his phone across the rink at Victor’s head, and Jean didn’t want to risk his luck when so many cushions were within Yuri’s reach.

“You said Philippe and his wife had many daughters and you told me you have like a bazillion aunts. Does that mean anything?”

To his surprise Jean’s ears turned a bright red colour. “Ah, uhm, you know, that’s a little bit embarrassing for me, because we’re talking about my maman’s … f-f-fertility here?”

“The fuck!?”

“Yeah, ok, ok. You know how it is with real lions? A pack of females that are closely related and one male. I know of shifter tribes in  Kenya that live just like that, but in New France there was no male lion, you see? Ever since Philippe and Lionne there was a roughly 90% chance that the child would be a daughter. But the ability to carry children on their own varied immensely between the sisters. Usually there was only one daughter who was able to get more than one child. My grandmother gave birth to seven girls. I have two cousins and the rest of my aunts haven't really bothered much or had simply adopted. The few boys that were born though didn’t carry the ability to shift. Back then we couldn’t check for sure how the SEE status was in them, but in at least one documented case the children of one son couldn’t shift either. So it appears as though for lions it’s a female only trait.”

“Oh gooooood,” Yuri groaned profoundly into the comforter, “Which makes you the single most special snowflake in the whole wide world.”

“I guess?”

Yuri tried his best to contain the suddenly emerging butterflies right under his sternum as Jean flushed red again and smiled a little abashed. Their kiss in the Finnish broom closet came unbidden to his mind. He’d dismissed it as an adrenaline fuelled action back then, though not backing down from playing into everything Jean was proposing in the hope he wouldn’t blow the whole thing off. The fact that Jean was damn attractive and that his eyes were so endlessly blue had helped a lot though.

Suddenly feeling shy, Yuri tried to get back on the topic. “Wait, what about Jerome? How does that play into your theory?”

“Oh, no, Jerome is adopted,” Jean was quick to answer. Jerome Leroy was Jean’s younger brother. He was currently training for his senior debut next season, though he would be allowed to participate in the senior division at the Canadian Nationals in January. He’d won the Junior Grand Prix last year and would probably win it again this year; he’d been dubbed the second Plisetsky by the press, and Yuri knew from experience how Jerome would probably hate him with a passion just like he’d hated Victor for causing him to be called the second Nikiforov.

“But I swear I could smell it on him.” Yuri was confused, Jean had just told him the men in his family couldn’t shift, with the obvious exception in front of him. But whenever he’d been close to Jerome Leroy he’d been sure he’d smelled just like JJ, the same shifter scent.

Jean’s smile grew sad and he lowered his eyes. “We don’t know who his parents are, but suddenly there was a baby on our front porch when we came home from mass. There was a letter I was too young to read, but Maman has told me the story. He was born to non shifting parents. You know how it sometimes jumps one or two generations? His birth mother had feared that the father would kill her child, so she’d searched for people who could take him in. We don’t know who told her about us. I mean, we’re not really advertising our status, you know? But we’re a tight knit community all over Canada. So, yeah, that’s how we ended up with my little brother.”

Yuri’s sadness had resumed. Right, even if he was here in Canada, the world was still a shitty place.

“Well, soon we’ll be our own little big cats menagerie,” Jean tried to joke. “We have lions, of course, and a little Lynx with Jerome. Aunt Jacqueline dates a Jaguar shifter from Brazil, whom she met at the summer Olympics. And now we also have a tiger.”

He tried a his best for a smile, though he knew it came out as a grimace.

“Yeah,” he said. “Uhm, I think I should go to bed. You need to be up early, right?”

“Yura, if you need me, oh, ok, that came out wrong, uhm, if it helps you to sleep better or to sleep at all… just uhm… please, I really want to help you, okay?”

Yuri had tried to hurry out of his cocoon but stopped dead in his tracks. Those damn honest and fucking beautiful blue eyes looked up pleadingly.

“Jean,” he began with a serious tone, “ I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I’m really thankful for what you’ve done. You literally saved my life. Without you, I’d be in a place where I would be wishing for death to come. The government can make me their personal skating instructor for ten years, sure, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you. Believe me when I say you’ve done more than enough.” He gestured around the house, “heck, you even gave me a roof over my head!”

“Yura,” he said calmly, and Yuri hated how it striked right into his core. “Don’t hold back, ok? There’s no need for you to play strong.”

Yuri nodded mutely but still fled up the stairs. He curled around the Potya plush and wished for the real one, wished for the real one to be still alive. When the nightmares came that night though he woke up warm fur and a heavy body next to him. Some part of his mind thought he should be scandalized how he shared a bed every night with JJ Leroy, but all he could feel was comfort and gratitude.

 

\--

 

The next time Yuuri met JJ was at the Grand Prix Final. He’d had to worry about whether he’d actually make it to the finals because his bronze at the Cup of China pulled his overall ranking down significantly, and the thoughts of his argument with Victor wouldn’t really leave his mind.

Yuuri had wanted to make his way over to JJ as soon as the first free training session was about to start, but Victor held him back. “I don’t want you to talk to him. I’m sure they won’t like it if you spoke directly to the one Canadian involved in all this.” Yuuri caught JJ’s eyes and sent him a sharp nod. They would talk later.

“Later” came in the shape of Phichit, who’d made it to his second GPF alongside with Yuuri, JJ, Seung Gil, Emil and a young baby faced Spaniard, even though everybody knew he’d only made the cut because he’d been upgraded to Bronze in Skate Canada after Plisetsky’s removal from the Russian Skating Union. The Thai snuck up from behind Yuuri and linked their arms together. “I’m gonna kidnap my best friend for some quality time. Don’t wait up, Victor!” He said and dragged him out of the hotel, trusting the now full-time coach to handle Yuuri’s gear.

They met up with JJ in a small cafe a few streets down from the hotel.

“How is he?” Yuuri asked before JJ could even open his mouth to say hello. It wasn’t the first time Yuuri had witnessed the difference between JJ’s personas during and outside of competitions. It happened with many skaters, Yuri being another prime example, yet Yuuri never felt anymore different on and off the ice.

JJ’s shoulders sagged, and he grabbed his cup of coffee as if it were a shield against the questions he dreaded.

“Not good,” he finally sighed. “I don’t want to distract you from the finals, but I’m sure you wouldn’t appreciate sugar-coated lies, would you?” Yuuri shook his head and JJ continued. “My mother has this theory. She has a degree in sports psychology, so maybe she really knows what she’s talking about. She thinks that now that he’s safe, Yuri’s subconsciousness has allowed itself to finally feel all of the terror he’d been experiencing. Things he’d had to shut down in order to survive in the past are now coming back like a sledgehammer. Maman had used more scientific words for it, but, yeah…”

“How is he?” Yuuri asked again, his patience beginning to run thin.

“I’ve already told Phichit, but he currently lives at our guest house. We have a lot of space because of my family’s skating school, and the Bureau of Immigration approved the solution. When I drove him home, I dunno, I didn’t notice it at first, but he just stopped? He didn’t speak for weeks. He didn’t react, he didn’t eat, and he only drank when I brought him something. It was so scary. I felt like he was… I don’t know… I really don’t want to compare him to a flower, but it was as if he was wilting away, and there was nothing I could do to stop it!”

“But he’s okay now?” It was hard for Yuuri to picture his namesake as anything other than in constant motion. Even during the fall, a period he now knew was Yuri’s time to grieve for his grandfather, as withdrawn and sad Yuri had been, he was still so vibrant. Even in pain and sorrow, he was so full of life.

“One day he just vanished. Shifted and went into the woods and didn’t return for days. I’ve heard so many stories about shifters who decided they were done with humanity and opted to just never shift back. On one hand, I was terrified of him doing so, but on the other, I wouldn’t be able to hold it against him if he did. The system killed his grandpa and damn nearly caught him.” JJ took a sip of his coffee and grimazed. It had already turned cold.

“One evening he finally stood on my porch again, half frozen to death but finally talking and drinking again. It got better after that, but it’s been slow. He’s still healing.”

“We did some research,” Phichit piped up in order to fill the silence that fell after JJ’s words. “We searched through some pro shifter pages and found a horrible video from one of the Russian camps. I’m pretty sure Yuri knows about those, too.”

“Ah, the one from Shifter Watch?,” JJ asked and Yuuri and Phichit could only mutely nod. “Yeah, that one sure was shocking. It was also the one that spurred the EU into opening their borders to shifters coming from the East. It was also the reason the UN was pressured into permiting a protection act for foreigners in Russia. Though it’s not only Russia. China’s equally bad. As are Pakistan, the middle East, Chile, and some African countries. I don’t know about the others, but Russia and China use shifters in farms and production sites for sure.”

“I used to think ‘how tough could it have been?’, and I didn’t really understand why Yuri would take such a risk, risking the safety of his friends and rink as well. Now I know, though, and I don’t know how anybody can hold it against him.”

JJ regarded them with a calculating look. Phichit had turned pale as soon as he’d mentioned the videos, and Yuuri looked downright depressed.

“How are things in Russia?” he asked. “Yuri asked me to take him into the city the other day. He finally bought some new clothes and a few essentials, and when we passed a newsstand, there were some newspapers in Russian. I mean, Bella had already warned us that it was bad, and that while the international press was somewhat objective, it wasn’t really the kindest. But the Russian one? He got very angry that day and broke a lot of our plates.”

“It’s… strange. It’s a strange mixture of denouncing Yuri and ignoring the fact that he’d ever existed. Smaller Russian blogs and tabloids are prohibited from reporting about him. Only the news channels authorized by the government are allowed to do so. They called him out as a shifter, but of course they used just the worst choice of words. They called him deranged and dangerous. You remember that one time he actually punched a reporter? He did so because the guy had grabbed Mila’s crotch, but that very same reporter turned around and wrote an article claiming that it’s only proof of how dangerous he actually is, how his aggressive behaviour only shows he’d never fit in. They called him vile and wicked because he’d been able to deceive them for so long, but _don’t worry, we now know what to look out for and we’ll make sure you and your children are secure._ ” He’d mimicked the last part as if quoting an old propaganda slogan from the radio.

“Oh, tell him about the Olympic Medals!” Phichit intervened.

“The skating union has kicked him out and eradicated all of his records. As far as the documents go, they’ve never been broken and are still held by Victor. Yakov told us about how the union had asked for his olympic medals, but the IOC intervened just in time, stating that it was illegal for anybody but the winner of a medal to sell it, give it away or destroy it. That resulted in a very nasty fight in the rink lobby between one Russian guy from the skating union and one from the IOC. I didn’t understand everything, but it was really ugly.”

JJ had been surprised that the only medal Yuri had sent him—however he’d managed to smuggle it out of the country—had been the one from his first GPF and not his Olympic medals. Now of course it made more sense.

“How is it with the guys in the rink? I mean, Yuri told me that they were probably also interrogated and searched.”

“They were, and according to Victor, it was really bad. He’s still a little traumatized by it, to be honest. It’s really hard to talk with him about it.

“The atmosphere is strange during training. It’s as if they all are in mourning. Mila still cries from time to time in the locker room, Yakov’s super gruff and Lilia refuses to take on any other skater. All of his photos have been taken down, and his name’s never said. It’s as if they’re trying to erase his whole existence.”

“Yuri feels guilty, you know? That he had to put them through it… but when I told him he had to do it, he just said: ‘Don’t be mistaken. I’m sorry this had to happen to them, that they had to suffer because of me. But I’m not delusional. It would’ve happened either way, and by running when I did, they were at least given the benefit of a doubt. If they had caught me while I was still living with Lilia, she could’ve been sentenced to up to ten years in prison. That’s what you get when you house a shifter. And if faced with the same decision, I would’ve done it again.’”

They were silent for a long time after that until Phichit ordered something to eat for all of them, stating that they couldn’t go to bed hungry when they had the GPF in front of them. Over dinner the atmosphere got lighter, and they exchanged stories about everything from previous competitions to other skaters. When they got back to the hotel, Yuuri asked JJ to wait one more second. He left him waiting by the elevator and scurried down the hallway to his room. When he came back out, JJ heard angry words he didn’t understand, that were cut off when the hotel room door closed. Yuuri tried his best with an apologetic smile.

“Victor’s not… he’s still really scared.. and he puts the blame on Yuri… he’s not coping well.”

“It’s not easy, for anybody. I’m sure he’ll come around,” JJ tried to console him, but Yuuri shook his head.

“This isn’t your problem. Here, please give it to him,” he handed a plastic package with Japanese writing and labels, obviously containing something soft, to him. “I wanted to tell him personally, but I don’t know when I’ll see him again, and he has to know as soon as possible. Will Yuri come to Vancouver?”

Worlds was going to be held in Vancouver this season, and most of the hotels in the city had already been booked. During their early planning of Yuri’s escape from Russia, they had planned for Worlds to be the last point where Yuri would get to Canada, no matter how Nikolai would’ve been at that time.

“I don’t know. Sometimes he makes plans. On other days he refuses to go. Currently he’s started to hold ballet lessons at the studio of the skating school. As much as Jerome hates him, he wants him to come. We’ll see how he feels.”

“I see. Please tell him that I want him to come to Hasetsu for some time in the off season. You’re invited, too, of course. But only if it’s not too dangerous for him to come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally there was some interaction!  
> Took them long enough, huh?
> 
> The idea of the Leroy family name stood from the start x'D JJ's just the most preciousl special snowflake out there!


	8. CHAPTER VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of incoming fluff!  
> Huh? Where did that come from? D:

Jean had won the GPF. He felt as if he’d been soaring in unknown heights. His smile radiated over the whole press conference, and not even the nasty questions from the Russian reporters could cloud his good mood. He’d wanted to skate Agape for the gala, but Yuri and his parents had put their foot down. Yuri, who’d appreciated the middle finger this hommage would be, simply stated that he wouldn’t be able to pull it off and therefore would only embarrass himself. His parents though had kindly asked him not to put any more target signs on his whole family, thank you very much.

His smile still hadn’t vanished two days later when they touched down tired and stiff at the Montreal airport, and it grew even wider when he saw it was Yuri who’d driven the big van to the airport to pick them up. He opened his arms as Yuri came flying in his signature tackle hug and catching and hugging and laughing into his hair had felt so natural and, oh, okay, they really had to talk about that soon.

“Princess, you missed me!”

“Shut the fuck up, Jeh Jeh!”

“Yuri, language!” Nathalie Leroy said, but she’d quickly given up trying to really educated the blond.

Yuri just laughed and grabbed a random bag to load the van. After he’d started to talk again Jean had slowly introduced him to his family. He’d tried to do it gently, but his aunts were noisy and had barged into the living room as soon as they’d heard they were finally allowed to talk to Yuri. Nathalie was the only figure skater out of the seven sisters, with two speed racers, a curling player, one gymnast and two Hockey players. Yuri had only met three of them, but for Christmas they would all come home, and Nathalie had made it clear that he wouldn’t be excused from attending church.

As much as Jean wished that Yuri would fit easily into his family, it was still kind of strained between some of them with Yuri showing his claws whenever he felt overwhelmed and threatened. Which was a lot when taking his current state of mind into account.

“That feels nice, doesn’t it?” Yuri said, flipping the gold medal on Jean’s chest as he sat down on their couch next to him after putting the steaming mug into his hands. They had developed a nice cohabitation, and Jean, who’d never lived in a dorm, wondered if their level of familiarity was normal for roommates. Yuri would usually stay in the upper level of the small house, but he had migrated more and more often into the living room downstairs, even occasionally wandering to the main house out of his free will. He still disappeared for several days, but by now, Jean understood how much it helped him. He was glad Yuri had stopped trying to suppress his urge to shift even if Jean had yet to see him consciously shifting in front of him.

“Well, you tell me.”

Yuri just smirked full of confidence. “Oh, I know how it feels. I also know how it feels when you’ve won it twice. In a row.”

“Yeah, yeah, how’d the meeting go with the potential coach?”

Yuri still wasn’t sure if he should compete for Canada next season or not. His deal with the government included one participation in the Olympics under the maple flag, and he knew how hard that would be in three years, if he’d spend his time coaching and choreographing instead of competing. He just didn’t know if he would ever be ready to face the world and its ugly faces. At times like these the woods sang even louder to him.

“Actually not that bad,” he answered quickly to dispel his thoughts.

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, most of the other coaches your mother set me up with were like total douches. One asked me if I had a ‘time of the month’ during which I couldn’t train.”

Jean had to roll his eyes. The superstition that shifters were dependent on the moon still held itself quite persistently.

“But Sveta today was not that bad,” Yuri continued. “She said, and I quote here: ‘I don’t care if you’re a tiger, hedgehog, or a potato, as long as you can glide across the ice and follow orders I don’t care in which shape you do so.’ I shit you not, this could’ve been a classic Baranovskaya!”

Even though his grin remained Jean could sense how sad Yuri got at the end of the sentence. He alternated between listening to Russian music and drinking his tea bland without jam, still searching for a middle ground on how to deal with his homesickness. Jean had tried to console him once after a panic attack with the Russian equivalent to ‘everything’s going to be ok’, but it had only intensified his panic, spiraling him deeper into the fear.

“I have a present for you,” he quickly tried to distract Yuri and got up to shuffle in his suitcase for the package from Yuuri.

“You already won gold, you don’t need to get me something.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t. It’s from Yuuri.” At this, Yuri perked up from his hunched position and accepted the package.

“This was sent from Japan to Detroit,” he  mused before he ripped the wrapping away. “Oh!” he said simply as he held up a copy of his favourite sweatshirt, the one with the roaring tiger head and the bow tie. “Wow, Katsudon must’ve searched really hard for this. Last time I checked they’d stopped producing them.”

“What’s that?” Jean bent down and picked the envelope up which had been hidden between the folds of the sweatshirt.

Yuri just shrugged as he ripped it open. Yet as soon as he peeked inside, he let out a startled gasp, and much to Jean’s panic, he started to tear up.

“Oh gosh, Yuri, what’s wrong?” He tucked Yuri into his arms, but his gaze wouldn’t stray from the Instax photo of an asian woman holding a fluffy cat in her arms, grinning into the camera.

“Is that Potya?” The black and white pointed siberian cat didn’t look exactly thrilled, and her bright blue eyes glared murder.

“That… that’s Mari, Yuuri’s sister....”

“That means Potya has to be ok! Right?”

Laughter bubbled up in Yuri’s chest, and he suddenly felt happiness again, something he’d thought he would be lacking forever. He turned towards Jean, whose face bright and whose smile wide, and something inside of Yuri compelled him to kiss that smile and the next thing he registered was how Jean reciprocated the kiss. The butterflies were back full force and all his breath left him.

“Uhm… wow…” Jean breathed as they seperated after some time and yet way too soon.

“Oh… yeah…” was Yuri’s eloquent reply. Jean’s eyes were so impossible open and blue, and Yuri knew he would do anything he’d ask of him and right now, he just wanted to kiss him some more.

“We… we… should talk… about this,” he finally whispered, and Yuri grinned at how breathless he sounded.

“We really should…” Yuri whispered back and had to physically fight the urge to dive in again, convinced that Jean would yield again. “So let’s talk,” he knew it wasn’t the best position for a neutral conversation. Not when they were so close, and not when Yuri was practically straddling Jean’s lap.

“So… uhm… I like you… like… I think you’re really amazing… you’re so strong… after everything the world has thrown at you… you can still laugh… and oh shit! Yura! Please! You know you don’t have to do this, you know? Oh, shit, oh, shit! You used to hate me! Fuck! I kissed you in Finland and you were afraid I would drop you, right?”

“Jean!” but JJ wouldn’t listen. With the dawning realization he’d become stiff as a board under him, while he was talking himself more and more into a frenzy.

“Yura, I swear, it was never my intention to take advantage of you! You were in no position to refuse me! And like an asshole I just kissed-”

Yuri slapped his hand onto his mouth to finally shut him up. He glared murder.

“Don’t,” he started pointedly. “Don’t you ever dare to belittle everything you’ve done for me. I won’t lie to you. If you’d requested a blow job for your help when I asked you in Saitama, I would’ve dropped on my knees in seconds. I told you I would do anything to survive. And I mean it. My life and my freedom are more valuable than my pride. But this… this has nothing to do with that. And I honestly had thought that I kissed you first... in Finland… I also… like you… a lot. Yes, you’ve helped me so much, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you, but… I don’t see how falling in love with you should diminish my debt?”

Jean forced himself to exhale, finally relaxing under this beautiful and radiant creature on top him. He felt slightly breathless and faint, but he managed to nod. Yuri’s eyes slitted dangerously as he regarded him, and he finally lifted his hand from his mouth.

“Ok,” Jean breathed and tucked Yuri against his chest, tightening his grip as he tried to contain his thoughts. “Ok,” he repeated. “Just. Promise me. Please. Never do something out of obligation, ok?”

Yuri snorted. “I promise. I really do. If you want proof: I have more than 100k in gold deposited into my own Canadian bank account, my citizenship cannot be revoked, and I can always plead for the Canadian Skating Union to send me to any other training facility. I don’t need you to stay here. Not anymore. And don’t be mistaken. I’m out of here as soon as you cross or hurt me. I’m here out of my own free will and because I like you. Ok?”

“Ok.” Yet he couldn’t help himself and pressed Yuri a little bit tighter against him.

They bathed in each others warmth some more and Yuri felt how Jean relaxed more and more under him.

“Well, since you’ve effectively killed the mood I want to read Katsudon’s letter. His family always had dogs, so I’m not sure if they’re suitable to meet my Princess’ needs.”

“Well, I would say I’m sorry, but I’m really not, because I’d rather flip out now and not when we’re already together for years, and-”

“Jeh Jeh, you’re blabbering again. Shut up.” Yuri usually called him Jean, but whenever he got on his nerves, he reverted to the familiar nickname, though when Yuri said it with his Russian accent, it did really funny things to Jean’s guts.

“Dear Yurio- urgh, I can’t say if it’s Mari or Yuuri who wrote it, but it’s already pissing me off.”

“Don’t you know Yuuri’s handwriting? You two trained for years together!”

“You would think so, but the thing is that apparently in Japan they don’t to a thing called handwriting, at least not in latin letters. I once saw Yuuko, Mari and Yuuri writing down the exact same word, and I seriously couldn’t tell them apart!”

“Yeah, yeah, ok, continue.”

“Ok, Dear Yurio, you’ll not believe what Mari found. This astonishing little Princess was wandering around and when we offered her some familiar scent, she headed straight towards us. She’s waiting for you to send your love and as you can see she is well cared for. Lots of love, Yuuri Katsuki. Urgh, who ends a letter with ‘lots of love’?”

“He didn’t exactly write that it’s her, but he was just being cautious?”

“Yeah,” Yuri traced his fingers over the small photo, “that’s my Potya.”

“Yuuri invites you to Harasezu for the off season, I think he wants to give Potya back to you.”

“It’s called Hasetsu, and he’d better! I- uhm…” He trailed off, suddenly unsure.

Jean carefully put an arm over his shoulder, and Yuri let himself fall against his chest again. “I’m sure we can organize safe travel for you. The government has agreed to also protect you during private international travels.” Yuri nodded mutely and took Potya’s picture again in front of his eyes. He wondered if he’d ever be able to not feel afraid. The caution and fear was something his grandfather had drilled into him before he could remember, and it was something that had kept him alive and safe. He was just so damn tired of it.

 

\--

 

“We’d like it if you could come with us to Nationals, Yuri,” Nathalie told him one evening as he and Jean were called to the main house to help with the groceries. It was two days until Christmas and tomorrow the rest of the aunts would arrive, some with their children, and then the house would be filled to the brim with people. Most of the skaters had already been sent home for the holidays, and the whole area around the house and rink gotten a lot quieter.

“Uhm,” he wasn’t quite sure if that what was something he’d wanted, but it was hard to outright refuse Nathalie Leroy. If avoidable, tigers usually didn’t interact or live with others of their kind outside of familial bonds. With lions though, it was a lot different, and Nathalie was a born pride leader, her presence demanding and strong. It was her domineering smell that had set Yuri off when Jean had put him under her nose without thinking; he’d felt as if he was intruding into somebody’s territory only sending his already alerted senses into high alarm and adding to his fear screaming _danger danger danger_ all over again.

“I’ll think about it?” he offered and was received with a kind smile. It took some trial and error to understand her, and Yuri was still cautious in her presence.

“Good. We’ll leave on the 17th with everybody. Be a dear and peel those yams, would you? Jean-Jacques, chop the carrots, Sophie go into the pantry and get the potatoes. And where did your lazy father go?” She huffed and went to look for Alain.

“You know you don’t really have to do this, don’t you?,” Jean bumped their hips together and pulled a sack of carrots to his side. He looked left and right and pecked a kiss on his cheek. Yuri blushed and bumped back, probably with a little bit more force than necessary.

“Will you stop it? I’m operating sharp utensils here!”

Jean rolled his eyes, “that’s a peeler, you’d have to be really clumsy to seriously hurt yourself!”

“Don’t challenge me, Leroy!”

“Oh, please, could the two of you stop it? Or get a room!” Sophie Leroy, Jean’s younger sister, complained behind them with a huge sack of potatoes over her shoulder.

“I don’t know what you mean, Soph,” Jean tried, but even to his own ears, it felt flat and strained. Yuri buried his head in his hands and groaned. Jean-Jacques Leroy excelled in many things. Though lying was not among them.

Sophie didn’t even dignify him with an answer, just a shit-eating grin.

“It’s okay. I like working in the kitchen,” Yuri picked up their initial strand of conversation. “I mean, it’s strange as fuck to celebrate Christmas in December, but all in all it’s not so different. Preparing a ton of food for a ton of people. It’s good. I mean, it’s familiar.”

“I’m glad.” Yeah, Jean was really better at telling the truth, and it showed.

The aunts and their extended family arrived over the course of the evening and the next day, and Yuri found himself at the center of a lot of unwanted attention. He was asked numerous questions, showered with compassion or regarded with caution. It was stressful, and it got his head spinning and his aggression rising.

When they entered the main house the day before Christmas Yuri stopped dead in his tracks because the whole pride of lions was lounged in the vast living room. The fire was burning bright, and the couches were moved towards the walls, creating a big space that was currently occupied by golden, strong bodies.

Jean made a sound like a soft ‘oh’ as if he’d just remembered something. Yuri turned around and saw the longing in his eyes, clearly torn over what to do.

“You, uhm, you’re of course invited to join…?” the thought alone made Yuri recoil and his disgust must’ve shown, because Jean’s face fell.

“Hey, wanna play Smash?” came a voice from the stairs. Jerome stood on the last step, still clad in his pyjamas as he angrily glared at Yuri, but still inviting him up.

 

“They’re pack animals,” Jerome said as he closed the door to the play room behind him, Julio, Aunt Jacqueline’s Jaguar shifter boyfriend, already sat in front of the TV. “They always do this when it’s family meeting time.”

“Fucking weird,” Yuri muttered.

Julio nodded sagely, the dark spots looked like birthmarks on his golden skin. Yuri couldn’t relax enough to follow suit.

“Mom forced me to join in when I was younger, but lately it just stresses me out.” He handed Yuri a controller. “It was so obvious my idiot brother would forget that. He means well, but he just can’t comprehend how anybody could not like a giant cuddle pile.”

Both Yuri and Julio shuddered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but isn't JJ the cutest?  
> A dork, oh, yes! But a cute one!
> 
> Also I die for shapeshifter dynamics and there is a reason Yuri doesn't like to be cuddled and urgh Lion's are the least cat-like cats!  
> Maybe this was the reason why JJ and Yuri argued so much in the past?


	9. CHAPTER VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the smut I promised.  
> Also more fluff. So much fluff!   
> And Jerome kinda developed his own character and hissed and clawed at me until I made him a realy important figure in this?  
> SOmetimes your characters are not really predictable! D:

When the time came to depart for the Canadian Nationals, Nathalie wouldn’t be swayed. It would only be proper and effective if Yuri was introduced to the people that got the skating circuit going as soon as possible. The therapist, which Yuri’d begrudgingly agreed to see after vanishing for yet another whole week, had also encouraged him to broaden his horizons in his new home country. All, of course, while staying within his own comfort zone. Yuri had grumbled how staying at home was his comfort zone, but Jean’s big open eyes had done wonders again in coaxing him into going. It was the same look he'd worn when he’d asked Yuri to think about the therapist agent Derosh had offered after he’d come back snow-covered and shivering.

“Cheer up, Princess! It’s not going to be so bad. And if it gets to be too much, we can always go back to the hotel room, okay?” Yuri only tsked at this and shuffled deeper into his jacket.

“Also when this is over I’d like to take you to my condo in Montreal. I’ve already asked Maman. She says it’s no problem where I spend my rest days.”

“What should I do in your condo?” Yuri asked, still annoyed. Jean lived in a small two (bed?)room apartment in the central city district of Montreal during the off-season, which was within walking distance of a rink and relatively close to his university. Yuri who had to leave home at eleven, knew about the concept of outgrowing his parents, though he’d never had to experience it and therefore thought the condo on top of guest house was a little bit extra of Jean. Contradictory even, if one took into account the strong familial bonds he’d witnessed between the pride members. But Jean had always been more human than cat, more not-really-domesticated but definitely more less-wild.

“I- uhm… I’d like to take you on a date?”

That got Yuri to stop in his tracks.

“A date?”

“No reason to sound so surprised,” Jean tried his hardest not to pout, and oh, okay, that was adorable. Yuri actually had to fight a smile.

“It’s just—and correct me if I’m wrong—don’t you usually do it the other way around? I mean, going on dates before you kiss and move in together?”

Jean shifted nervously from left to right. “Okay, now you’re just messing with me!”

“Don’t whine, Jeh Jeh.” Okay, now Yuri really couldn’t contain his grin. Part of it was because he loved to rile Jean up, but it was also because the thought of a date made him inexplicably happy.

“This is important to me?” Jean tried, his voice raising in a plea.

“I’m not saying no! I just question your order of action…”

“Yuraaaa…!”

At this Yuri had to laugh. Damn him, able to scatter his fears so easily! “Soooo… did you already have something planned?”

The creeping blush originating from his ears was even more adorable in Yuri’s opinion.

“Uhm, first I wanted to get some coffee and pastries at that old, French confectionery down in the main plaza. Then, I heard it’s always a good idea to take you shopping...? There’s a whole side street full of off-brand, very colourful and horrible clothing stores that I’m sure you’d like. After that, it’s the classic movie, you have a choice between the King and the Skater IV or Frozen III- ouch! Don’t hit me! Okay, I deserved that,” Jean’s smile was bashful but full of mirth. “After that I’d like to take you to dinner. Nothing fancy, don’t worry, but there are some dishes I’d like you to try.”

The therapist had suggested he go out and familiarize himself with typical Canadian things. She’d been wise enough to not suggest hockey, and overall, Yuri was kind of glad he’d chosen to talk to her, not that he would ever admit it. The doctor’s office was an hour drive away, and after the first time, Jean let him borrow his ridiculous, fancy, red sports car to get there. She specialized in helping refugees come to terms with their trauma from fleeing. She’d worked with people from Syria, Pakistan and even Russia, though he was the first ‘open’ shifter she’d ever worked with, not that he had a chance to hide it anymore after all the media coverage—which he still refused to look into. The therapist had asked some questions during their first session, which did cover some of the typical cliche, but Yuri had sensed her genuine interest and answered them with minimal grumbling.

“It sounds like you put a lot of thought in this,” Yuri mused as they made their way to the lockers, their credentials already hanging around their necks. Yuri had been listed as an assistant coach by Nathalie and Alain, who stated that his work in the ballet studio had improved Jerome’s skating significantly.

He received a lot of curious glances from the rest of the Canadian skating community. Everyone who talked to him was polite, and thankfully, he had the chance to slink from one press-restricted area to the next without an incident. He could tell that people were being cautious around him, but it wasn’t nearly as hostile as he’d imagined.

“I … did? I don’t know. I just think that a proper date is required.”

“Hmm, I have to admit it sounds nice. I’ve never been on a real date.”

“Really? Okay, that’s good. I won’t have to compare to some handsome Russian gigolo.” 

Yuri snorted at that.

Jean continued, “I just want to take you out to my home town that I love.” 

Yuri forced a smile. The idea of taking Jean on a date by the Neva or showing him the Red Square did sound nice in theory, but something bitter inside of him whispered that he’d never be able to do so.

“Well, I would say yes, but I hope you know a date with me is not cheap.” A smug grin had formed on his lips. “Just because I’ve never been on a date doesn’t mean I don’t have standards, you know?”

“Really? What do I need to do?” Jean was genuinely puzzled, and Yuri fought to retain his aloof demeanor and not coo at the open innocence with which Jean was asking.

“You should know that I’m not dating anyone less than a national champion. So it’ll onlybe a date once you come and ask me with a gold medal around your neck.”

His confusion cleared and gave way to a bright smile. “I will do my best, Yura!” he proclaimed before he vanished into the locker room.

-

He did his best, but it was not easy. The first three spots were hard-fought and after the short programm the first spot read Leroy, but it was Jerome who’d domineered over his brother and the other competitors; surprising everybody from the audience, to his parents and most of all: his brother. Yuri though had seen it coming. He knew that hotcoldangry burning determination to proof himself against somebody older, somebody on a pedestal, somebody he’ll always be compared with. Jerome was only 14, even if he could he wouldn’t be allowed to compete as a senior in the international circuit, but as last year’s Junior World Champion he’d been allowed to skate in their national championship with the adults. 

Yuri was twisted, on one hand he’d been the one to give the necessary pointers to emend Jerome's skating, his ballet lessons adding just the right ounce of artistry and flexibility his programs had needed. He wasn’t the first Junior Yuri’d supported and he felt proud. On the other hand he really really wanted to go on that date.

“Keep that free leg straight and you’ll might also do good in the free,” he said staring ahead as Jerome sat down next to him.

“Fuck off.”

“Does your mother know you’ve learned such colourful language from me? Try saying it with a Russian accent, I’m sure she’ll be delighted!”

“It won’t matter. I’ll be listed for junior Worlds, sure, but everbody’ll just call me the second Plisetsky, the next Leroy.”

“Hah!” it was dry and very humourless. “And you tell that the eternal ‘second Nikiforov’?”

Jerome stiffed beside him. “Oh.”

“Yeah. So, hate it or love it, I know what it’s like.”

The boy was silent for some moments. “Well, at least they don’t call you that now?”

Yuri stopped, suddenly surprised by the joke, but couldn’t help and snort. “Don’t you dare to go and pull up an international scandal, malen’kaya rys’. Think about your Dad, he has enough on his plate already.”

-

The atmosphere between the two brothers was high that evening and Yuri felt like a buffer in their 3 person bedroom, strategically choosing the middle bed. Jean’s fire burned brighter and hotter and unfortunately his boasting and insufferable performance was firmly in place. Yet his victory cry as he’d received his scores was genuine and hinted at pure joy.

“One last piece of advice,” Yuri murmured and leaned down. “If you scowl like that on the podium, you’ll never get rid of the name ‘the second Plisetsky’”

Jerome did his best and when Jean pulled him into a tight hug his frown dissolved into a laugh.

“Chaton, I did it!” Jean cried and jumped Yuri, throwing his arms around his neck. Yuri had stayed in the background, thankful that most of the press was prohibited from entering the competitors area and thanks to his ever pulled-up hood he’d been able to pass most of the competition anonymously. But now he saw the flashes going off and tried to fight down the nausea in his stomach.

“Yura, I won! Will you go out with me?”

Feeling the blush on his cheeks he looked down and nervously put a strand behind his ear.

“Oh, shit, I called you chaton, I’m sorry!”

“No! I- uhm, I mean, no, don’t worry. I uhm I think I like it? And well, you are a national champion, so it appears you’ve got yourself a date.” Yuri had to laugh at Jean’s fistbumps and victory dance. “But I think going shopping with Jerome would’ve also been a lot of fun.”

“You won’t ditch me for someone younger, would you?” he asked with fake desperation.

“You’re both idiots and disgusting!” Jerome hissed and shoved his shoulder harder than necessary in JJ’s guts as he passed them.

_ Oh _ , Yuri thought as a wave of dejá-vu hit him. He made a mental note to be more careful from now on.

 

\--

 

Jean’s condo consisted of a huge living and study room with a separated kitchen aisle, a comparable small bedroom and a miniature bath. They’d spent the night after the banquet in the hotel and went in JJ’s car to Montreal. They left their bags and went to the aforementioned little French Café, but not before Yuri changed and re-applied his tinted lotion.

The lotion, Jean had learned very early in their friendship, held a key position in why Yuri had been able to not raise any suspicion for so long. Like most shifters he could maintain a total human appearance, but had to fight down his ears and most of all his stripes whenever he got agitated, be it anger or happiness. But skating was a very strenuous and emotional sport. Yuri had told him how he used to suppress the minimal shifts during skating when he was a child, he succeed but his presentation lacked. With the lotion he could cover the first white stripes that would show on his skin like light birthmarks. Rigorous training and self-control, as well as early acquired makeup skills, had made it possible for him to skate without sprouting ears and his stripes switching to black. Jean had to buy it beforehand, but Yuri complained about the loss of his usual Russian brand. He never left home without applying it and even wore it most of the times if he just stayed in bed.

“So, this is your first date?” Jean asked smoothly as they sat down at the small tables.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “This is slightly anti-climatic from the horrible pick-up lines I’ve been expecting.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, I can do that! Did it hurt when you fell down from heaven?”

“Lame and old.”

“Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“As if I haven't heard that one before.”

“Ok, wait, this one I’ve been saving just for you: I know why they used to call you Fairy. Because you’re just not from this world!”

That one cracked Yuri unexpectedly and he threw his head back in laughter.

“Wow…” Jean breathed, suddenly in awe.

“What?” he asked slightly wheezing.

“I mean… you’re beautiful most of the time, but when you laugh… sorry, that just took my breath away.”

Yuri tried to hide behind his hair. “I don’t see the punch-line in this pick-up line,” he mumbled.

“That’s no pick-up line, that’s only the truth, Chaton,” Jean said and took delight in seeing how much redder he could Yuri get.

Their pastries arrived and Jean sent a prayer to the heavens that his parents would never find out how much he was violating his diet.

“But I seriously have to ask, you really never went out with somebody?”

Yuri’s eyes were closed in chocolate induced bliss. “There was this boy, Pavel. He was a fox shifter and he and his family lived in my neighbourhood. During the summer after my senior debut we kind of fooled around. Like. A lot. But uhm, we never did something like… this? Going to movies. More like, hanging around on the deserted school yards.”

“And after that summer? You didn’t meet up with him again?”

“I’ve gone back to Petir at the end of summer and when I went back over Christmas, in January mind that, Deda told me had arranged for Pavel, his father and his baby sister to move. His 6 year old sister had a shifting accident in school and the teacher had put her into a cupboard as he called the police. As her mother had come to pick her up, with her eldest daughter in tow, they’d been sacked as well. It was only thanks to a girl calling to their father how little Anyushka had sprouted fluffy ears. He packed the bare essentials, picked up his remaining children and got the hell out of Moscow. Can you imagine how horrible he must’ve felt? Making the decision to leave his wife and children behind to save what’s left of his family?”

“Wow, that’s really… wow…”

Yuri shrugged. “Things have always been like that. But to answer your question: I’ve never been to a date, but I’m sure as heck not as innocent as others liked to see me.”

Jean noticed how Yuri wanted to talk about happier things, but there were still some topics he wanted to know. “I’m really sorry, but I have to ask…what has happened between you and… Otabek?”

The reaction was instantaneous. Yuri groaned profoundly and hit his forehead on the little wooden table. “Not you, tooooo,” he lamented.

“Your fingers. In his mouth. While you did a striptease on the ice. Do I need to say more?”

“That was no striptease, that was the most awesome program I’ve ever put together!”

Jean gave him a deadpan look.

“Ok, ok,” Yuri reletented. “I’m sooo tired of saying the same fucking phrase of ‘ _ we’re just friends _ ’ over and over again. Here’s the thing. Otabek is my first and best friend. He may be gay or bi, I don’t know, because I don’t care. Ok, that’s not true, I know he’s bi and I care, but not because I want to climb him, but because he’s my friend. It’s possible for two guys attracted to the same things to be friends, ok? It works! When it became clear Deda wanted to get me out of the country sooner or later I used his ankle injury to superficially cut him off, because Kazakhstan’s not close behind Russia in terms of shifters and I knew he’d get hell if he could be associated with me. We’ve kept our friendship hidden, but I still talk to him regularly and I’m so glad he’s one of the few people who didn’t have to suffer from my very existence!”

Jean winced at the last sentence but couldn’t help to stare. “How do you still talk regularly? You don’t even have a phone!”

“We have our means of communication. Please don’t ask, that’s not something I can share with you.”

By now Jean knew that Yuri’s secrecy regarding different topics had nothing to do with a lack of trust, yet it still stung sometimes.

“That’s good to hear. Beks is a good guy, even if he always kind of baths in sandalwood. I mean, I’m glad for you. You really had me fooled when you dropped him after the Olympics.”

“He understood. It was hard, but, yeah…”

“Did he know you were a shifter.”

“I never told him.”

“I see. But Yuri?”

“Hm?” 

“You’re not the only one who knew that Beks is bi.” Yuri’s jaw gaped open and Jean had even the audacity to wink at him.

 

\--

 

“I knew it was a bad idea to take you shopping,” Jean wailed under the combined weight of their shopping bags. They’d opted to ditch the movie, discussing that Yuri had way too much fun and that they couldn’t talk while in the cinema. Yuri’s biting humor and Jean’s easy and smooth flirts were battling each other and yes, they had a great day so far.

“It’s not like we didn’t go shopping before,” he wheezed dramatically.

“That was so I won’t have to alternate between the same 5 pieces of underwear. Bare necessities. This though, this is fashion!”

“This is an explosion of colours and patterns, don’t you dare to call that style!”

Their bickering went on and on. They had finally reached a main street again and Yuri stopped at the window of a big electronics store. 

“I would feel better if you had a phone on you again,” JJ said as he followed Yuri’s gaze.

“That your way of guilt tripping me?”

“No, I’m only honest. It’s quite tiresome that I have to call the landline of the main house or whoever is at home, only for them to walk to the guesthouse to get you.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, but still followed Jean inside the building. He had saved most of his data, his pictures were up in clouds, the important numbers were written down anyway, but it had still hurt him to put his phone into the sink filled with saltwater just before he’d left his hotel room after Skate Canada. Probably most of his accounts would be frozen, but he knew from other shifters who’d escaped that governments had no grip on Instagram, Facebook and Google.

They bought a phone, but Yuri refused to switch on the internet capability. Taking pictures and being available for JJ on the phone was enough for him for now. He barely refrained from letting his new phone fall into a plate of Poutine as it was put in front of him. JJ laughed and urged him to try it, stating that he only ever ate it after getting on the podium. His father may never know about this! Jean takes him to a glittering but empty fountain, illuminated with colourful lights and kisses him in the cold air until their lips are red and swollen.

The two arrive at the condo drunk on laughter, stumbling over each other and giggling like little children. They fall on the bed in a snickering lump and it wasn’t until Jean was on his back and Yuri was looming over him, brushing his hands through his hair that Yuri noticed the little tremors running through the man beneath him.

Yuri stopped in his ministrations.

“Are you scared?” he whispered.

Jean shook his head. “Nervous,” he corrected.

“Should we stop?”

“No. Please. I want this. It’s just… I’ve never done… this before.”

Yuri bit the inside of his cheeks and tried to do his best not to grin. Not because he would belittle JJ, but because he was just so damn adorable.

“Never…?” he leaned down and kissed him gently, entangling their legs. “Like this?”

“N-n-o. I mean, yes, I mean, I’ve kissed and… m-m-made out? But uhm… nothing more?” He stopped in a strangled noise as Yuri grinded their crotches together.

“Why? I mean, you had many offers, I’m sure.”

“I-I-we wanted to wait after marriage. A-and when I found out… when I-I noticed that I’m r-r-really b-b-bi and that it wasn’t just a phase… I just… never... ?” He looked up at Yuri pleadingly, trying to transfer what he meant, but couldn’t say. Sophie, JJ’s younger sister had told him that Jean had come out to his parents after his summer in Haiti, where he came to terms with his identity after the end of his and Bella’s engagement. His biggest fear, among many others, was that his church would throw him out. Nathalie had opted to just keep quiet about it, to not raise any suspicion, but Alain didn’t want to hear any of it. He marched straight to their pastor and demanded a statement from him, hinting that he and his family would leave his church if he didn’t include homosexuals in his flock.

“You say stop and we stop, ok? There is no shame to not be ready. You set the pace, you hear me?”

He wanted to say something, but no word would come out so he opted to just nod his head.

“Ok,” Yuri whispered and kissed him again. “Can I get you naked?”

“Please,” he croaked. “I want you.”

“You already have me,” Yuri gently pulled their clothes off until only their underwear remained. “May I?” he asked, playing with the hem of JJ’s tight fitting boxers.

Jean, starstruck by the golden beauty on top of him, made a sound like a whine, but nodded his head with vigor.

Yuri pulled the fabric and nosed the now freed erection gently, inhaling deeply on the musky scent as he got rid of his own briefs.

“Do you have condoms and lube, Jeh Jeh?” Jean’s hips bucked involuntary at the name and he blindly fumbled for his bedside table, unable to take the eyes off the predator looming over him. Yuri traced the outstretched arm with his hand, grasping for the drawer.

“Since this is your first time, I want to make it really good for you,” He sat up, stradling Jean’s hip, and poured a copious amount of lube on his fingers.

Jean’s brows knitt in confusion. “Wha-?”

Yuri smirked, pressing his erection tighter against Jean’s and bent down to whisper into his ear. “I’m going to ride you.” The man under him made a strangled sound and suddenly Yuri felt Jean pressing up and warmth spreading in his lap. Jean gaped at him like a stranded fish for some seconds, before he curled into a tight ball, groaning in embarrassment and hiding his face in his hands. Yuri stayed still, unsure of how to proceed, but in the end he ended up blurting his thoughts anyway.

“Well, if that’s not a compliment then I don’t know.”

“Yuuuuuuri,” he wailed, bright red and not able to look up at him.

“Sh sh, no, no, I really mean it!” Yuri shushed him and stroking gently over his ribs. “What’s better for the ego than bring your partner over the edge with just words and touch?”

Jean peaked between his fingers. “But it’s embarrassing.”

Yuri shrugged and sat up again, causing Jean to twitch under him as he gyrated his hips, smearing the semen between them. “I once came into my dance belt, because I’ve developed a sudden but thankfully short-timed fixation on Chris’ but and he hugged me after his performance at Europeans.”

“What? Chris?” Now he was up again, staring at Yuri wideyed.

He smirked and gently pressed him back down again. “When it comes to first times, nothing’s like the movies. It’s awkward, a lot of fumbling and most of the time embarrassing.”

“Such sudden wisdom, Chaton.”

He rolled his eyes in synch with his hips and that shut Jean up.

“Shut up, Jeh Jeh,” he added for good measure. “and don’t think I’m done with you. You’re a young man and I have just the right thing in mind to get this going again.”

“Wha-?”

“Just watch. And keep your hands to yourself.”

With that he re-applied the lube, reached between his cheeks and started to finger himself open. With a satisfied smile he observed the shocked look on JJ who looked as if he’d expel his soul at any given moment at the erotic sight.

Just as planned his erection stood soon to attention again and Yuri did his best to maintain eye contact as he lowered himself on the throbbing organ, eager to drink in the sight of a virginal JJ, who he was deflowering in this very process.

Jean’s hips moved on their own and Yuri pressed a hand on his sternum. “Stop, stop, give me a moment. It’s been some time and… you’re really big.” With delight he witnessed how Jean’s eyes rolled back into his skull. Experimentally he rolled his hips drawing a desperate cry from JJ; he felt wonderful inside of Yuri and with a partner this responsive this promised to be much fun.

“Chaton,” he whispered with so much love that Yuri couldn’t help the dopey smile and the tension leaving his body. Jean’s breath caught in his throat at the beautiful and dangerous thing riding his cock. Yuri’s stripes were in full bloom, painting gorgeous patterns on his white skin, the ears were downright adorable and Jean could feel the tail wrapping around his ankle.

As anticipated Jean didn’t last much longer than before, coming again after only a few more circles from Yuri’s hips, pumping the condom full. Yuri grabbed his hands as Jean’d started to stutter and put them around his own strained dick. JJ dutifully started to fondle him, drawing an orgasm out of Yuri. He threw his head back in a lewd moan, tripping Jean over the edge and sending him flying. His vision went white and for a few moments he didn’t know who or where he was.

Jean came back to himself slowly, feeling utterly sated and spent. He felt warm moisture on his stomach and looked up to see Yuri wiping him down with a cloth. From dazed eyes he watched the glorious naked figure stroling to the bathroom and back again and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was when Yuri pulled the cover over both of them and pulled him against his chest.

 

\--

 

The light of the next morning woke him and for a second  he contemplated why he was feeling so damn happy. Then he remembered the events of the previous day and a warmth spread through his whole body, painting a wide grin on his face as he stretched in bed. Jean looked up and felt himself knocked out by the sight in front of him.

Yuri had made himself a cup of tea and stood, illuminated by the white morning light, in front of the glass door, looking over the city. He was naked and his features were calm, the stripes beautifully visible on his skin, his tail relaxed on the ground and the ears  flickering lazy.

Jean must’ve made some kind of sound, because Yuri startled and his beautiful features retracted as he turned around suddenly.

“No! No, no, no,” Jean was on his feet and with Yuri in seconds, barely missing to injure himself permanently as he stumbled over the blanket. “Don’t. I mean don’t change. You can… show me… Yura… you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…”

Yuri blinked up at him slowly, his eyes big and vast and impossibly breathtaking. Slowly they filled with trust and Jean saw how the pupils changed into slits. With a content little sigh he closed his eyes and bedded his head on Jean’s shoulder. He put his arms around the lithe figure and inhaled deeply on the warm morning scent. So this was Yuri when he was truly relaxed and open. Jean felt oddly privileged and humbled at the same time to be bestowed with such a gift.

Yes, he thought, this is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who'd seen Canadian Nationals will know at what I'm hinting with Jerome's success in the short.  
> But sorry, the boy really looked like a second Plisetsky!


	10. CHAPTER IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's more or less a transition chapter :)

Seoul | Four Continents | February 1st 2020

They didn’t meet in secrecy like last time, Yuuri outright refused to play by Russia’s rules, leaving a very frustrated coach behind as he skated up to JJ on the ice.

“Katsuki!” he greeted him with a huge smile.

“JJ, hello, you appear to be in a good mood. Was my gift ok?”

“He was so happy he cried, but don’t tell that anybody or at least don’t tell them I said so.”

Yuuri had to smile. “I won’t tell, but I’m glad he’s happy. Did you think about my offer?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“Eh? He’s not here, is he?”

“No, no,” JJ backtracked. “But I can give you his number. Just make sure it doesn’t get into a hackable phone, you know?”

They skated side by side for their warm up lapses as suddenly Seung Gil Lee retracted his arm as if he’d been burned by their vicinity.

“You ok?” JJ asked.

Seung Gil gave them an allof look. “Please refrain from touching me. You’ve had contact with  _ that  _ and I’d like to take my distance from abdominations like that Russian animal.”

JJ’s face got ashen and a bottomless pit opened ice cold in his stomach while the back of his neck burned. He’d heard his fair share of discrimination, he knew of people changing the side of the road when they saw a shifter. But this? This open hostility, this open disgust displayed by somebody he’d thought as a good acquaintance threw him off more than he thought possible. This was hatred directed against his boyfriend and against himself.

“Do not worry,” Katsuki answered with a cold tone JJ hadn't thought possible from the gentle man. “It’s not as if we’d enjoy your mindless hatred. It’s pitiful to see that a skater has to return to such shallowness when he’s not able to surpass Yuri Plisetsky on the ice.”

He honestly didn’t know which scared him more. The open display of racism or the 180° turn of Katsuki.   
Seung Gil was equally taken aback and skated away with a sneer.

“You ok? You look quite shaken?”

“I-... yes, I think I’ll need a minute?”

“That’s ok JJ, do you want to skate it out or should we go somewhere with less people?”

JJ wondered for a second but then remembered how Yuuri Katsuki was no stranger to anxiety himself. He skated forward in their lapses again.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? To see how ugly some thoughts really are?”

“Yeah, I- uhm… we’re pretty open minded at home. Sure, in Canada prejudices exist as well, but I’ve never heard such… hatred?”

Yuuri’s gaze darkened again. “Try living in Russia. Since Yuri’s gone I hear it everyday. Government slogans, propaganda, diatribe. It’s as if everybody’s trying to protect themself by stating how much of a nuisance and danger Yuri is and how they knew it all along.”

 

\--

 

He still wasn’t used to his new ringtone and it took him some time to recognize the ringing sound as his phone. The caller proofed to be patient because it still rang even through Yuri’s contemplation whether to pick up the American number or not.

“Yes?” he answered the call, suppressing the urge to state his name how he’d been taught as a child.

“Hello, this is Katsuki Yuuri, I’d like to speak to Yurio please?”

“That’s not my name, Katsudon!” he all but barked out before he could think otherwise. Old habits die hard after all.

He only heard laughter from the other end and he knew he was pouting. “Ah, Yuri, it’s so good to hear you again!” Yuuri wheezed and Yuri could picture him wiping tears from his eyes.

“Calm your tits, Katsudon.”

“It’s just so great to hear you and that you sound so normal.”

“Don’t make it sound so dramatic. I’m fine.”

“I know you are. You’re strong.”

Yuri’s throat tightened and he was glad how his mumbled “whatever…” sounded more or less not broken.

“Did you like my gift?” Yuuri asked instead and if he wasn’t about to cry already, he was damn close now.

“I- Katsu- I- … yes. I don’t know if I can ever thank you enough.”

He could see Yuuri’s gentle, yet sad smile in from of his inner eye. “It’s the least I can do. I wish I can do more. I wish I could’ve helped you more when you needed me the most.”

“It’s ok. You didn’t know…”

“Still… I want to make it better for shifters. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

“You can always donate. I mean, I’m not asking for money, but there are organisations that organize flights. They’re always in dire need. You can make your opinion public. A-a-and you could…” He trailed off, suddenly unsure.

“Yeah?”

“Could you stay my friend? Like, I mean. I know Beka’s been forced to make a statement how we haven’t been friends for years. But Japan’s different right? I mean-”

“Of course, Yura.” Yuuri interrupted his rumbling. “Nothing will stop me from staying by my friend’s side.”

“Fuck… you’re stupid, Katsudon!”

“You haven’t told me that since some time ago! You might do it more often, otherwise I might think I’ll be actually able to accomplish something!”

Yuri sniffed audible into the phone, but caught himself soon enough. “And you have to stay at the top of your game! When I come back competing next year, I want to beat you when you’re in your best form!”

“I can do that! So that means you plan on coming back?”

“You bet, Katsudon. I can’t let Jean and you have a free pass on the podium for every competition, can I?”

“So I can also expect you in Hasetsu during summer?” Yuuri asked after some good natured laughter. Before Yuri could respond, Yuuri was fast to add, “She really misses you, you know? Mari sent me a video where they put a program of yours on the TV and she tried to reach you and bat the TV and meowed at it. It was heartwarming to be honest!”

There was a beat of silence before Yuuri heard a deep broken gasp for air.

“I- yeah, I think so. We might bring an agent with us, you know, safety measurements and stuff. But yeah. I can’t really wait to get her back. And better fucking send me that video, Katsudon!”

“I will, I will!” he laughed before he got serious again. “Actually I think Oka-san might have to clean my old room again for me, too.”

“The old geezer’s not coming with you?”

Now it was for Yuuri to hesitate. “I- I honestly don’t know, Yuri.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Yuri tried to tease, but the heavy sigh told him he’d stuck closer to the core than anticipated.

“It’s like I don’t know him anymore. Vitya’s always been that… open person. With so much love to give. Yes, he’s shrewd and has poor memory and is sometimes a tad manipulative…” Yuri refused to let the snort escape and let Yuuri continue without interruption. “But since we reunited at the Cup of China he’s so… weird. I can’t say your name or talk with him about you at all. He gets so cold and angry… I think he’s not coping well.”

Yuri felt out of his depth, but he knew Katsudon had just agreed to stay his friend, even if it meant he’d receive backslash from the public for it. So he owed his friend to be there for him, when he had the chance.

“Vitya’s been taught his whole life that shifters are evil, brutal animals. That we need to be controlled, that we are a danger to the normal humans. It is hard to be suddenly forced to question your way of thinking. Above all, Victor’s not used to… betrayal-”

“Yura, you didn’t betray anybody! Nobody could’ve asked of you to risk your life!” Yuuri interrupted him vehemently.

“I know him a tad longer than you do, Katsudon, and please believe me when I tell you: give him time. He has his reasons, I’m sure of it. Trust in the thing you have and in the man you love. And now excuse me, I have to drink some bleach to get rid of the horrible taste in my mouth these words have left!”

Despite his dire mood Yuuri had to hugh yet another laugh. He was honestly surprised, that Yuri would argument in Victor’s favour. But maybe the younger skater was right, maybe he knew Victor longer and could therefor give a valid advice.    
Still, things had to change. Yuuri would no longer tolerate how Victor spoke about shifters in general. He had to establish his boundaries.

The two said goodbye after talking some more, leaving especially Yuuri with a new sense of peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Yuuri being good friends will forever be my headcanon and you cannot convince me otherwise!


	11. CHAPTER X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluff and the friendship was nice, wasn't it?  
> Let me destroy this warm feeling :D
> 
> Please beware of the tags. Descriptions of violence and panic attacks will follow.

Montreal | ISU World Figure Skating Championships | March 20th 2020

“Yuri, can you give me a hand? I have a thing,” Sophie appeared right beside him, sending him jumping as his nerves were already on high alert. This was Vancouver, this was still Canada and there were a lot of security guards and he had his passport with him all of the time. Yet the international vibe, the mixture of languages and the variety of different people set him on edge. Every time he heard some Russian his throat clogged and his heart stopped and oh gosh, this had been such a mistake to come here. Even with all the precautions he took, he felt vulnerable and exposed and just wanted to crawls back into his bed with his tail between his legs. Quite figuratively speaking.

He’d seen Victor from across the rink once, their eyes locking. The way he turned around like he didn’t even know him, hurt more than he thought was possible.

He had his credentials as an assistant coach around his neck and the red and white maple leaf still didn’t feel right. Oh no, this really was a bad bad idea.

Sophie had tugged him along until he noticed where she was heading. “Oh, no, nadoyedlivyy, I’m not going into the woman’s bathroom with you. Shouldn’t you get your mom for this?”

Sophie only rolled her eyes at him. “You’re my brother’s very gay boyfriend. Mom and dad are occupied and I obviously can’t ask my brother, so come on! Please, I have a thing only you can help me with!”

His resistance stayed but Sophie was a lot stronger than she looked like and pulled him with ease into the bathroom. Next to the door stood one of the Juniors that visited the Leroy’s skating school and slipped through the closing door, obviously going to keep watch.

“What-?” he asked confused, but Sophie had already shoved him into the last shower stall and suddenly he saw a fleck of red and his heart stopped.

“OH! my god! kitten, your hair!” Of fucking course that would be the first thing Mila would comment on. But yeah, ok, it wasn’t something that would be expectable. He’d been terrified to put himself into the spotlight, unable to quelch down the rising panic. Jerome had suggested to dress up so he wouldn’t be recognizable in an instant, they even discussed a fake beard before Sophie had asked why he wouldn’t just dye his hair? They tested some washable dyes and after a trip to the barber his hair was a lot shorter and a dark sandy brown colour. It would wash out after like three showers and he had to redraw his eyebrows because with the darker hair it was painfully obvious how light they actually were. With this he could decide when and how he wanted to be recognizable from afar by the other skaters.

Some had stated their point of view on social media when the whole thing had blown off in the international press. Seung Gil and Emil had stated how disgusted and betrayed they felt, Guang Hong had twittered that he’d never actually shared any connection with Yuri and didn’t plan to do so any further. Leo, who’d taken some time to get his head wrapped around the whole ordeal, had told JJ that China was equally strict when it came to shifters and that Guang Hong was required to make that kind of statement. Others, like the Crispinos, had preached tolerance and acceptance. 

Encouraged by Yuuri’s promise to stand by him Yuri had finally dared to take a look at the media coverage. It had been as devastating as he’d thought it would be. Jean came home from the 4CC to an empty house, Yuri vanished into the woods once again. When he booted up his laptop he knew why; most of the russian tabs were still open.    
When Yuri returned he’d been withdrawn and heartbroken, but he’d stated that maybe there was hope. He had logged in into some of his fake twitter accounts, the one he’d used to look into the Angel’s gossip and he’d been surprised how many young girls had stated they would still cheer for him. That throwing him out of the Russian Skating Federation was their loss. There were a lot of deleted comments and tweets, by no doubt the result of government surveillance, but the source of positive messages stayed persistent, no matter how small. Despite being devastated he was glad he still had some people in his corner. Be it only with a small positive tweet.

Phichit and Chris though had gone out right activist.

Phichit had opened a blog to denounce Thailand’s sex trafficking practice with minors and shifters. Everybody knew if you’d really wanted to fuck a catgirl you go to Thailand. He’d already suffered the loss of a sponsor, but had on the other hand received the offer of several other companies, including one makeup brand that stood for equality in all colours and shapes.

Chris took it a step further and became the spokesperson of a European human rights organization, which planned to send him to the next WHO and UN meeting.    
He had retired like so many others after the last Olympics, leaving the field open for a lot of juniors the next season. His original plan had been to join his husband Matthieu in his choreography business and he still did that, but the major part of his energy went into his activism. JJ had heard from Yuuri that Chris and Victor had a very ugly fight over the matter and haven’t talked ever since.

“Baba…” Yuri felt cold sweat breaking out on his back and he felt his neck prickling. Never before had he associated Mila with the feeling of fear, but now, crowded in a shower stall with zero preparation he was ready to bolt.

“Yuratchka,” she said and his decision was taken from him as she pulled him into a tight hug. He felt as he was torn in half. Half of him wanted to run, get away from Mila and everything that came with her, bad memories and dangers alike; the other side recognized her scent, remembered her warmth and how soft and firm her hugs were.

As gentle as he could be firmly pulled her away from him. “Don’t, Baba. I’m dangerous. You- I don’t want to get you in danger.”

“Well, tough luck Plisetsky,” she said in her usual snarky I-made-my-mind-up way and his heart ached at the familiarity. “That’s not for you to decide.”

“You know you can end up in prison for collaborating with a shifter. They could strip you from your medals, you-” he couldn’t go on further because she’d hugged him again and this time he couldn’t stop his traitorous body from relaxing out of instinct and hugging her back.

“No matter who or what you are. You’ll always be my little Yuratchka. And I’ll still love you like my brother.” Yuri sagged against her and had to blink hard to force his tears back.

The two stayed like this for several minutes until Yuri found he’d caught himself enough again.

“So did Katsuki tell you which heroic role I played in smuggling your little princess out of the country?” she asked as she tried to swipe over her eyes without him noticing.

“You did?”

“Ah, I knew he wouldn’t want to share the glory! But as good as he is with Russian these days it would’ve been still super suspicious if he were to suddenly ship a cat to Japan! Did he at least tell you how we caught her?”

Yuri shook his head, too mesmerized in the familiarity of all of it. He’d seriously given up on any hope of interacting with his adopted family like that ever again.

“I don’t know, have you let her out before you left for Skate Canada? Yuuri didn’t want to tell me too much, but he hinted you’d planned this for a really long time? Anyway, Lilia was held in custody for several weeks even after we’ve been allowed back to Petir and they searched her house and I’m sorry, but I fear  most of your stuff has been either destroyed or taken, but they couldn’t find Potya! I don’t know which kind of friends Lilia has, but as soon as she was allowed one phone call, she was escorted with a government limousine back to her place and has never been bothered since. Unlike the rest of us.”

That was at least a small relief. He knew the backslash would be the hardest for Lilia, since she'd housed him for so long.

“When Yuuri came back after the Cup of China we both searched in Lilia’s neighbourhood for her, but couldn’t find her. We found one of your sweat drenched shirts in my locker, because your’s been probably full again, and one evening we put your shirt into a cat crate together with some food. And when we came back in the morning there were like 3 cats in the crate, the food was gone and Potya sat on top of the crate and looked at us like ‘there you are, you idiots! I’ve been waiting for you forever!’ It was hilarious!”

“I’ve got all of my attitude just from her,” Yuri whispered gently, still not trusting his voice. “How did you get her out of country?”

“If anybody ever asks you: she’s the 18 year old special needs cat of my neighbour and she’s called Malyshka. The real Malyshka passed away three months ago, but my neighbour still had her paperwork. Thankfully Malyshka was only described as a black and white cat in the papers. So I disguised myself as a middle aged woman, with real fake wrinkles and stuff, put Potya in a box and went with her stolen paperwork to the post office and shipped her off to Hasetsu!”

“Baba, you are amazing.”

“I know and you should tell me more often!”

He felt strangely elevated when he left the shower room again, accompanied by Sophie’s smug grin and the junior’s, her name was Amelie or Emely or something like that, encouraging smile. Not even Emil Nekola’s utterly shocked face when he’d recognized him under the brown hair and hood could dampen the strange mood. It was a feeling of quite-relief, an almost-happiness; deeply aware of the thin ice he was standing on. Yet a traitorous part of his heart wanted to jump into the air and grind widely.

He heard the murmurs picking up and saw the fingers pointed at him from behind his back and knew Nekola must’ve talked and it was time for him to go. The current training slot had come to an end, which explained the sudden flood of his former competition, but Yuri was honestly too emotionally wrung to deal with anybody of them; no matter how they might think about him. He texted Jean that he wouldn’t wait for him and followed a bunch of Canadian’s from the physio team to the hotel on the other side of the parking lot.

Whatever positive feeling he had was lost in the lobby. He contemplated for a short time whether he should wait for Jean here, but the memory of the last time he’d waited for Jean in a hotel lobby was still too raw and painful. And when he turned around to head to the elevators he bumped rather heavily into another person.

“I’m sor-” the apology died on his throat.

If he was scared with Mila before he was now outright terrified. His mouth was filled with ash, his lungs were paralyzed and he felt his skin burning.

Before him stood non other than Lilia Baranovskaya. With wide eyes she regarded him, obviously as shocked as he was, before her face moved to a mask of utter disgust. She straightened herself, held his eyes, and brushed away any kind of dirt he might’ve left on her shoulder with a flick of her hand.

He fled.

Another word would be a lie. He still felt her cold and hateful eyes when he bolted through the door that lead to the staircase, not even considering to wait for the elevator. His heart was beating way too fast as he took several flights of stairs at the same time, his hands trembled nearly uncontrollably and it took him too many tries to open the door.

Inside the room he felt trapped. No, this wasn’t right, he needed to run. Further and further until he was far enough away from all that pain. Until there was all of the world between him and the woman he’d once regarded as the closest thing to a mother he’d ever had.

He didn’t know how long he contemplated before the lock clicked again and Jean entered the room. Yuri backed away from him in a corner, the ash in his mouth like a clog, sealing his lips and tongue into one giant cluster, unable to open and form words.   
A part of him registered how out of breath Jean was, how concerned his face was and how it couldn’t have been more that two minutes since he’d ran from Lilia.

“Yura,” he heard him saying, but it sounded like underwater, muted and so so far away. “You’re having a panic attack again.” He’d reached a corner and felt his knees buckling, he put his hands before his face in a weak attempt to shield him from the face he’d just seen. “I’m coming closer now, Yura, I will not hurt you.” He understood the words, he really did, but his body wouldn’t breath and he again felt like drowning, drowning, drow-

“There we are,” Jean said in his calm voice as Yuri gasped audible for air, his lungs constricting heavily. Carefully Jean took Yuri’s hand and placed it on his own chest, giving him a rhythm for him to breath.

“I saw you vanishing through the door. That’s before I recognized your ballet teacher. I’m sorry I wasn’t faster…” Utterly exhausted Yuri slumped against him, finally able to cry freely.

“Nothing has ever hurt that much,” he breathed hoarsely.

“I’m so sorry chaton, so, so sorry. I should’ve been with you.” But Yuri only shook his head, unable to form the words that it was more than enough that Jean had saved him from drowning once again.

Jean cradled him for another couple of minutes, humming a soothing tune with that ridiculous charming voice of his, before Yuri felt strong enough to push himself into a sitting position again.

“You can leave whenever you want, you know that? There’s no shame in protecting yourself if it hurts you too much.”

Yuri only shook his head. “I need to face them sooner or later.”

“Sophie told me you talked with Mila today?”

“Yeah, she’s being stupid again,” he vaguely gestured with his hands, “I mean, she knows what’ll happen if word gets out she sympathizes with me. And she still pulled that stupid stunt.”

“She loves you,” Jean countered and Yuri sagged down again.

“Yeah…”

“Do you feel like you can move to the bed?”

“Yeah, gimme a sec-” he pat on his tracksuit jacket to confirm that his phone was still with him as he felt some paper in his pocket. Curiously he pulled it out and stared at the letter in utter confusion.

“What’s that?”

It was probably stupid and downright dangerous to open the unknown letter like this, but it had been addressed to ‘Yuratchka’ and something ugly and wretched bloomed in his chest, feeling disgustingly like hope.

“ _ My dearest Yuratchka, _

_ I hope this letter finds you well. As I write this, I do not know how I will make sure it reaches you and if one of these methods might’ve hurt you I apologize for any kind of facade I had to put up. _ _   
_ _ Rest assured that you have not put me in any kind of danger. I have danced for the high and mighty and this little thrust did not denounce me in any way. Through our mutual friend I have come to the conclusion that you’re not whole, but unharmed for the most part, and for that I’ll be grateful. _

_ For whatever it might be worth for you, I wish I could’ve offered you more warmth and a bigger sense of security so you would’ve shared your secret with me. Please be assured that I wouldn’t have thought any less of you because of who and what you are. _

_ Whenever the chance might arise, and if you’re still willing, I would be happy to teach you again like I did that second summer. _

_ With all of my heart, _

_ Lilia Katarineva Baranovskaya _ ”

He knew he worried Jean greatly, but he just couldn’t stop shaking. His boyfriend tried to pry the letter from his hands, he couldn’t read cyrillic or Russian and obviously deemed the paper the source of his lover’s tears. With a strangled cry Yuri pressed the letter to his chest, protecting it and its words, letting them sink in deep into his heart.

“It’s good,” he choked out and Jean resumed to pet his hair clumsily, not really knowing what to do.

It took him most of the rest of the day to calm down, to translate the letter for Jean. Jean’s parents knocked at sometime in the evening and wanted to take them to dinner with the rest of the Canadian team. Nathalie, who would usually refuse to let Yuri stay at home, took one look at his face and told them it would be okay if they’d ordered room service, Yuri had to make sure Jean stayed on his diet and Jean had to make sure Yuri ate enough. She didn’t know exactly what was going on, but her instincts told her enough. She knew worlds would be hard on Yuri.

“I’m waiting for the next shoe to drop,” Yuri whispered during the night when they were both on the brink of falling asleep, not giving JJ any chance to reply.

“Why?”

“Nothing good can ever happen to me.”

 

\--

 

His instincts were on overdrive. His skin felt itchy and too small and he had to fight the urge to shift whenever somebody came into a 2m perimeter of him, which was, considering the masses that visited Worlds, every fucking second.   
He had his hood up, tinted glasses on his nose and had his credentials turned around so nobody could sneak on his name and he still felt as exposed as if her were in the middle of the ice.

It really was a bad idea to come here.

Despite their kind words on the first day Mila and Lilia were entertainers and capable to play their roles perfectly. Other than Victor and other members of the Russian team they didn’t throw him any hateful glances, but rather acted as if he were thin air.

It was the last day of competitions, only the awards ceremony for the men’s singles was left and tomorrow would be the exhibition skates and the gala. Something he dreaded, because he knew Nathalie would make him go and there was no way he could keep his hood up most of the time.

The audience around him roared to life as the three medalists took the ice to circle around the podiums before they took their designated places. Silver did look good on JJ, he had to admit and when his name was announced the Canadians around him made it audible who was their favourite. It didn’t blemish Phichit’s happiness at all, because he still looked kinda dazed as if he was sure to wake up any time from his gold medal dream. Yuri had to admit how hard earned it was, the Thai skater had skated the skate of his life. When he took JJ up to him on the first place podium for photos he made it clear to not include Nekola in them, tolerating him next to him, but nothing else.

Katsuki had come in 4th and looked sour from Yuri’s point of view, but not nearly as unhappy as Otabek, who made it to the free, but barely. He’d had a bad fall at Worlds after winning bronze at the Olympics and was struggling for a reaching the top again ever since.    
Yuri tried to melt further into the bleachers reserved for the Canadian staff as the camera zoomed over the block. He had good company with Jerome next to him equally grumpy despite his own gold medal; only Sophie on his other side cheering to her heart's content for her older brother tugged at his gloomy mood.

“What’s wrong with you two sourpusses?” Sophie asked them with an afronted look on her face.

“None of your business, Soph,” Jerome grumbled, speaking for them both. “I’ve felt off the whole day, okay?”

Yuri regarded him with a curious look. So Jerome was feeling that forbrooding, too. After learning that the youngest Leroy was actually adopted a lot of things made more sense. Jerome was, like him, a lot wilder and more in tune with his inner cat than the rest of the family. Which is probably why he’s seen as the rebel by the media.   
The three of them got up with the rest of the Canadian block, ready to depart back to the hotel. Jerome excused himself for a second, looking for the bathroom and Yuri and Sophia hung back, until Sophia got bored and went on with the rest of her friends.

After 10 minutes Yuri grew impatient as well and went after Jerome, looking where the boy was staying. He entered the bathroom and had no chance to dodge the swing of the baton before it collided with a cracking sound on his bad shoulder. He heard himself crying out in pain and felt how he was tugged completely into the room. The first incoming punch he could evade, but the second from behind hit him with the baton again in the kidney and literally punched all air out of him. He felt anger rising, but the loud click of a gun froze him into place.

“Stay on your knees where you belong, you filthy animal, or the boy pays for your disobedience,” an ugly voice snarled in Russian into his ear. Not daring to move too fast Yuri looked up slowly. The men around him all held the telltale aura of agent around them and the one, who pointed a gun at his head was by no mistake agent Dobkov, his face held a firm place in his nightmares. What scared him the most though was Jerome, who was held in a choke-held by a burly man also with a gun aimed at him. It was clear how frightened he was, his blue eyes wide and afraid; he struggled hard not to break down, but Yuri could see it was a close call.

“Will you behave now?”

“Yes,” he answered, because what chance did he have? Even if he was somewhat sure that they couldn’t really harm Jerome in earnest, that would violate too many international agreements, he couldn’t put the boy into more danger.

He received a fist in the face for his answer, splitting his lips and sending his ears ringing.

“No talking from the animals! That’s for us humans only. You’ll learn your place soon enough.”

“Yuri?” Jerome whispered, oblivious to what was being said. Yuri tried to reassure him with his eyes that everything would be ok. The Russians didn’t know that Jerome was a shifter as well, as valuable as Yuri was. As long as he would play along he wouldn't come to any harm. Or at least Yuri hoped so.

“You’ll come with us, without a fight this time, and as soon as we have you in custody we will release the boy. But if you make one wrong move, you dumb beast, he will pay for it. Do you understand?”

Yuri knew better than talking again and nodded. He got hauled to a stand, his whole body protesting and after some shuffling he and Jerome were escorted out of the bathroom, with the weapons hidden yet still firmly pressed at their sides.

The arena had emptied remarkably in the last minutes and nobody threw them a second glance. He was tempted to alert the security that patrolled the exits, but the fear for Jerome kept his mouth shut.   
At the end of the busy parking lot stood a nondescript black van with tinted glasses and Yuri felt dread in his stomach. Dobkov hit him with the gun at the back of his head and he tumbled into the car, the pain momentarily blinding him and making him disorientated, but he did hear Jerome calling out to him, before the door fell shut behind him with a finalizing thud.

He was met with a kick to the ribs that had him curling around the foot that pressed him down. When he looked up he saw Debkov snarling down at him, the gun leisurely in his hand.

“You dumb animal really thought you could escape us, huh? You and your kind are dangerous and you need to be locked away. We’re doing this country a favour for getting rid of you. But don’t worry, you can soon repay all the trouble you’ve caused. Our doctors will be so happy to have you. As soon as it was clear that you’re a tiger they nearly pissed themselves to finally get you in their fingers!”

Yuri couldn’t move. It was not the pain or the broken bones, but the fear that held him in place. Everything his grandfather had warned him about was about to come true.

“And you will not escape again. I don’t know who that old hag had called, but she will be sent to prison when you so much as twitch a muscle. Your precious rink will be closed and we will find everybody that had helped you, just like we found your cat and killed it slowly.”

_ He’s lying _ , some part of Yuri’s mind supplied.

Potya was save, he’d seen her photo. Lilia had told him she would be ok. There was no way they could close a government funded rink that had produced so many high level skaters.

Something changed in his eyes and Dobkov saw it too. The smug grin on his face freezing and falling and as the low growling sound grew louder and louder he became painfully aware that he was in a very small room with a very very dangerous animal.

Yuri, despite his bad temper, had never hit somebody first. He knew how to fight, his Deda had first taught him the basics and then organized instructors for him. Be it with other shifters or with humans, he’s been ridiculed for his orphan status, his hair and his sport a lot. But he’d never in his live threw the first punch. That also was a lesson by his beloved grandfather.   
And as he shifted and sunk his teeth in the man’s leg, nearly severing it with one bite, he thought of his shot shoulder, the cracked ripps and Jerome’s scared face and, yeah, he held to his grandfather’s teachings. He didn’t attack first. 

He finally fought back.

 

\--

 

He didn’t know how exactly he’d escaped from the van and he only came to awareness when he was already halfway across the parking lot, the arena always ahead of him. He couldn’t run as fast as he wanted, the baton hit against his kidney still had him limping and breathing was rather painful.

“Yuri, is that you?” he heard someone talking and a gasp as soon as he’d turned around. “Oh my god, what happened to you?” He’d made it to the shuttle area where the last competitors tried to get a bus to the hotel, rather than walking. And apparently he’d run directly into the Italian team.

“Hey man, you ok?”

“He’s obviously not ok, Micky, oh dear!” Sara Crispino took half a step backwards as his knees buckled and he vomited heartily on the pavement. He felt Michele’s hand rubbing somewhat clumsily on his shoulder and heard Sara cry for Mila.

Oh, no, this was bad. He was sure reinforcement would arrive soon and if they saw Mila interacting with him, he was sure she was going to be arrested.

“I’m fine,” he wanted to say, but only gurgling sounds escaped him.

“Yura,” he heard Mila saying and her red head appeared in his field of vision.

“Go away, baba,” he was finally able to mutter and pushed her weakly away. He forced himself to a stand, tumbling against Michele, who still hovered behind him, uncertain if he were to go down again. His neck prickled again as he saw three men in suits approaching them and he made sure they saw how he pushed Mila away again, this time with desperate force and she had to take a step back.

“Hey Plisetsky, what’s wrong with you? She only wants to help?” Michele asked in a piqued tone. He looked at Mila and saw how her face had turned ashen and as he followed her line of sight he also saw the Russian agents.

“Yuri Nikolaievich Plisetsky, this is your last chance to hand yourself over or we will arrest Mila Gabrievna Babicheva on this spot!”

“She didn’t do anything!” he slurred and was about to take a fighting stance again. Suddenly though a hand grabbed his shoulder and he was shoved behind a massive body. The telltale cologne told him that it was none other than Yakov, who’d placed himself between him and the agents.

“Yakov Feltsman, you’re committing a crime by protecting that dangerous animal. You can be charged up to 10 years of prison for this, please consider your options carefully. We have witnesses that he’d attacked and nearly killed several of our agents and-”

“And why are your agents near him anyway? Last thing I knew was that the boy’s a Canadian citizen now. You folks have nothing to do with him anymore,” Yakov interrupted him easily with his booming voice, that he used to be heard across whole ice rinks. The agents, obviously not used to such backslash, stood their ground, but appeared to be frightened to be screamed at. “As far as I can see it you’re harassing a Canadian boy and I’m doing you a favour to stop you from your stupidity!”

“Fuck it old man! Fucking stop it!” Yuri finally yelled. “I won’t let you destroy your life! I can’t bear it if you’d go to prison because of me! Think of the rink! Just get out of the way!”

Yakov turned and suddenly Yuri was 11 years again and away from home for the first time. “Yuratchka,” he said like he would always say when he executed a jump flawlessly for the first time. Yuri felt like choking. “It’s not you, who’s responsible for all of this. Nothing that has happened or will happen is your fault. It’s theirs. It’s not you, who decided to cut the fundings. It’s not you, who tortured us and violated our privacy. It was never you. It has always ever been them. And I’m a god damn old man, so let me make my own fucking decisions, you horrible brat!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skating fam is true fam and protect fam!  
> I thought long and hard on what to make the final clash in this and I think this is a good one. Yuri finally overcoming his fear that had paralyzed him for so long, realising that he is indeed strong in so many different ways and getting the support from his friends and family as a source to fight back.


	12. CHAPTER XI

It was the arena’s security lead by several police officers that dissolved the situation. The security officer’s weren’t faced that much with diplomatic immunity and exercised their property rights and secured the agent’s in the rink’s drunk tank that was usually reserved for boozed hockey hooligans. Yuri found himself in Mila’s and Lilia’s protective circle when Jean and the Canadian government forces finally arrived. His boyfriend rushed towards him and the following hug had him crying out in pain, leaving him dizzy and weak. Jean and Lilia insisted he had to go to the hospital, which proved to be a good idea, because the hit against his kidney had ruptured the tissue and he was suffering from internal bleedings.

While the doctors debated whether he should undergo surgery or not, Nathalie Leroy rushed with Jerome into the hospital room. She hurried to his bed and much to his surprised she took him in her strong arms and rained motherly kisses onto his hair before she held him close with a care and a warmth he hadn’t felt for a long time.

“Thank you,” she whispered in his hair. “You sacrificed yourself to safe my son. Thank you so much. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you!”

Self Loathe suddenly bloomed inside his chest and he wished to be swallowed whole by his bed. He didn’t deserve her warmth.

“Don’t. Without me he wouldn’t have been in that danger in the first place…” he tried to wriggle out of her embrace, but she only held him stronger.

“Yuratchka,” she said and he didn’t know where she got that name, “when we welcomed you into our home you became part of our family. Whether you like it or not. And we will always stand with you. This is not your fault.”    
And for the second time this day he felt as if he were to cry from all the suffocating love he was gifted with.

 

\--

 

“I don’t want to fall asleep,” Yuri whispered to Jean, who sat close to his head. His heart rate had dropped and he was feeling dizzy constantly know. Surgery had become indisputable by know, but the loss of control scared him deeply. The thought of being vulnerable and open on the table helped him to retain consciousness until now, even if his body screamed and begged for rest.

“I know. But I don’t want to lose you to your thick head, so I’m advocating with the doctors on this,” Jean replied equally in a whisper and bend down to kiss Yuri’s cold lips.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Always, mon chaton.”

 

\--

 

Just like he’d fallen asleep, when he woke up again Jean’s hand still held his. He sat slumped down in a chair, in a position that would surely lead to a crick in his neck. And they weren’t alone in the room. Lilia sat by the window, reading  one of her paperbacks, next to her was Yuuri, performing his secret Japanese art of sleeping while sitting perfectly upright. In the only other bed he saw Jerome curled tightly, suddenly looking so much younger than his 14 years.

“Good morning, Yuratchka,” Lilia greeted him in her low voice and he was awarded with one of her rare yet gentle smiles. “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep? It’s still very early and everybody will still be here later.”

“You promise?” he asked and felt like a child.

“Of course I do.”

 

\--

 

He later blamed it on the painkillers, but everything that happened from then on seemed to be in a haze for him.    
Jean had left with Yuuri to fetch coffee for everybody when Jerome finally stirred from his tightly curled position. It took one look between the boys and Yuri offered his arms for him, which Jerome took and stalked awkwardly yet carefully to Yuri’s side on the bed. Yuri hugged him tight and let Jerome cry against his chest. He couldn’t fathom to understand how traumatic this had to be for a boy who grew up in a world with no violence and danger.

Yuri caught Lilia’s eye, who pretended to still be asleep in her chair, over the boy’s blond hair and they both decided in silent communication to let Jerome have his moment. Aside from some bruises he was thankfully physically unharmed.

With the knock Jerome untangled himself from Yuri and rushed past his brother out of the room.

“Should I be concerned?” Jean asked with a smile as he put the tray with paper cups on the small table next Lilia.

“Who knows?” Yuri answered with a smug grin.

“I see you way too often in a hospital these days,” the look of concern was shortly overwritten by one of fondness as he bent down to peck a kiss on Yuri’s still too pale lips.

“It’s not like I chose to rip my damn kidney, asshole” he protested with a pout, but accepted the kiss nonetheless.

-

When Yakov came back with Yuuri though Yuri was fast to scream again at the old man, calling him irresponsible and hot tempered and that he refused to take the responsibility of whatever happened to the rink. He did not want to load that on his consciousness additionally. Not after he’d gone so far to burn every bridge to Russia to protect them all from the backslash of his flight.

“Don’t think we’re that stupid that we hadn’t seen what you did with your little stunt, Yuratchka,” Lilia interrupted in her brisk voice. “Yes, of course we were angry and hurt at first, but it’s not like we never understood the danger you were in. I for myself needed some time of thinking what to think about you, we were all very scared. We have been taught the same vile things and it’s hard to unlearn certain behaviours, but do not dare to underestimate our love for you, young man. I have decided a long time ago that I want to accept the offer of the Royal Ballet in London and I do not see any issue in taking my former husband with me.”

“But what about your home?” Yuri tried weakly, but as always there was no arguing with Lilia’s steel hard resolve.

“Furniture and worldly possessions can be be replaced. It’s harder with people. We are adults, Yuratchka, and we have decided to fight this cancer that took root in our country for too long.” Then she got gentler again and took his hand. “Jean-Jacques has told us about Nikolai. I’m very sorry for your loss, Yuratchka. I wish you would have felt save enough to come to me back then.” 

Lilia and Yakov left after that, promising him again to take care, telling him again how nothing of this was his fault. Mila had left already the previous day with the Crispinos for Italy, yet even if she was very determined to stand with him, her future remained unclear. She had a big family and Yuri feared they may be punished in her stead.

“How much longer are you going to stay in here?” Katsuki asked, tearing Yuri from his moody thoughts.

“The doctors said about 6 weeks until he’s allowed on the ice again. But I hope I can get him home next week,” Jean answered for him, knowing full well how unable Yuri was to sit still.

“Where’s your ring?” Yuri asked sharply. Yuuri tried to hide his hand behind his back but let it fall ultimately to his side.

“We… decided we needed a little bit of space from each other…” he gestured vaguely with his hands, trying to change the topic immediately.

“What happened, Katsudon?” Yuri’s steely gaze and determined voice had to come straight from Lilia’s textbook

Yuuri looked like he was fishing for excuses but broke under Yuri’s stare in the end. “When word got around what had happened at the arena he got so angry. Michele told us the story from his side, but there were so many rumors! Somebody said that you’ve killed and  _ eaten _ the agent!” Yuri did his best to suppress a shudder. He didn’t know if he’d killed one of them. A frighteningly cold part of him didn’t even care. But he knew how he would never again get the feeling of bones breaking under his teeth out of his head. 

“Victor called Yakov, “Yuuri continued, “and they screamed at each other a lot over the phone. He… he said so many… horrible things! Yurio, I- I- … I told him that I didn’t know if I could be with someone, who can turn so ugly on his friends… he didn’t really argue against it. He only said: ‘With things like that I don’t know if I can still be enough for you.’”

“Fucking Victor,” Yuri swore.

“I’m sorry, “ Yuuri apologized, “I didn’t want to add anymore to your worries.” Yuri facepalmed and grimaced at the pain the action caused. But damn those two idiots were stupid.

“Listen, Katsudon,” he began, “do you trust me?”

“Yes…?”

“Then go after Victor. Don’t throw this away. I don’t know of any two idiots who’re that perfect for each other, even in their stupidity!”

“You didn’t hear what he said, Yura, I-”

“I can imagine, Yuuri, I really can, but what you didn’t understand is how absolutely afraid that balding idiot is! This is what’s causing him to lash out like that. Trust me, I know a thing or two about being angry, because of being afraid.”

At this Yuuri had to smile a little. “You’re probably right... I… I should go after him, but I think I still need some time to uhm… get some distance?”

“That’s only fair. Actually I would advise the two of you to relocate to Japan permanently. It makes it much easier for me to visit you.”

At this Yuuri had to smile. “So you’re coming?”

“I already said I’m coming! As soon as this slave driver here let’s me board a plane I’m off to raid Hasetsu and collect my precious cat!” He said gesturing to Jean, who only smiled. It was the off-season now and he would spend every minute on Yuri, making sure he would take all the rest he needed to heal completely.

“Then you should hurry to get better soon, she misses you a lot.”

“I will. And now get lost. I’m tired and my stitches are itching, I feel cranky and my whole body is in pain. I want my boyfriend to kiss it better, I want drugs and most of all I want to suffer alone. There’s the door, Katsudon.”

 

\--

 

“Do you want me to call a nurse?” JJ asked as soon as Yuuri had said his goodbyes.

“Yeah, that shit starts to hurt again,” he let himself sink back into the pillows, suddenly aware of how utterly exhausted he was. The nurse came in and gave him another shot and he groaned in relief as the drugs started to dull the pain again. JJ was right. Since coming to Canada he’d spent more time in hospitals than during the rest of his live combined. He closed his eyes and refused to open them for a very long time.

“Cuddle me,” he demanded and Jean had to snort. Like his little brother did earlier he snuggled carefully into bed and gently tugged Yuri to his chest.

“I can never really say if you’re like a cat because you’re a cat or because you’re you.”

“Too tired to deal with your shit, Jeh Jeh,” he mumbled and Jean chuckled.

“They lied, you know?” he said after some time, eyes still closed and his voice dangerously close to sleep.

“Who?”

“Dobkov, that agent,” he said and felt how Jean stiffened beside him.

“The one that shot you?” He asked and Yuri hummed in agreement. He knew how Jean forced himself not to hug him too tightly right now.

“When they got me into that van I felt like it was all over for me. This is it. I’m caught, I’ll be brain dead by the end of the week. He told me how they would arrest Lilia if I would try to escape again. How they would close the rink and I’d be responsible for everybody’s misery. And how they caught and killed Potya…”

“But Potya is-”

“Yeah, I know. That’s when I realized that he didn’t hold me down because he could or because he was stronger than me. He held me down because I was afraid and he knew how to fuel that fear.” 

When Jean looked down at Yuri he was met with the unfiltered force of his determination, concentrated in his aquamarine coloured eyes. He felt as if the air was punched out of his lungs, suddenly painfully aware of the lethal creature in his arms. Yuri was strong, stronger than he’d ever hoped to be and right now he saw the tiger rising again.

“I don’t know what will happen now. It won’t be easy. I don’t think this will be their last try. And I also have my responsibilities here. But I will not cower in fear anymore. I will fight back with whatever it takes.   
I’m done with being afraid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that the official story is done.  
> Only the epilogue is missing, which I split in two :)


	13. EPILOGUE I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally dealing with Victor! \0/

Hasetsu | July 10th 2020

Everything Jean knew about Japan came from two brochures he’d read on his two flights to Japan. Yuri had shown him Hasetsu on a map, in the south of the country, but as soon as they’d exited the air conditioned airport in Fukuoka he’d proven again how incapable he was on judging other countries climates. He was a Canadian through and through and not used to summer that was longer than a week.

“I’ve told you to pack lighter,” Yuri threw him a shit eating grin as Jean removed yet another layer.

“The last time I’ve been here I’ve packed adequate,” he tried to defend himself.

“That was for the NHK, you idiot. It gets nearly tropical here in summer!” 

Jean groaned heartily, but still hurried along with Yuri to catch their train. In their seats Yuri quizzed him again on the do’s and don’ts of Japanese etiquette.

“You really want to leave a good impression with them, do you?”

“They housed Potya, they deserve only the best. And also you’ll understand once you meet Mama Katsuki. Nobody with a an ounce of a conscience could physically be able to do something to make her sad. Trust me. She’s that powerful.”

“She sounds like a marvelous woman,” the man behind them said.

“You’ll see, Derosh. And trust me, once you’ve tasted her Katsudon you’ll never want to touch that Poutine of yours ever again.”

Agent Derosh had come with them as their escort and he was dressed, for the first time since they knew him, in comfortable clothes rather than a suit. Yuri was happy that it was him who’d been assigned for their trip; as promised the government offered him protection during his international travels, be they skating related or private like this one. He had tried to keep his professional distance, but couldn’t help but be included by Jean’s ridiculous charm. It would only get worse from thereon, or so Yuri told him, because the Katsuki’s included everybody in their little family. His 15-year old self was the best proof, getting fed and housed after barging in so suddenly when he’d followed Victor.

The closer they got to Hasetsu, the more nervous Yuri got. Jean could see it in rigid way he hold himself, a perfect posture rather than his usual slouching, how he forced his fidgeting fingers to a stop moving. He knew he would get a his and an insult if he were to take his hand now, so he just opted to place his hand on his knee, staring out of the window.

“What if they hate me, too?” Yuri whispered. His eyes were also trained on the countryside outside.

“They took in Potya.”

“It’s one thing to take in a cat. Or to donate some money for a good cause. But to really act on your good intentions?”

“Would’ve Yuuri invited you if he thought they could dislike you?”

At this Yuri stopped fidgeting and his shoulders dropped a little. “Probably not,” he muttered.

They exited the train and walked the short distance to Katsuki Yuutopia. Jean had seen a lot of pictures of both Yuri’s but also Victor and of course Katsuki’s Instagram pictures, so when they rounded the corner the sight was a familiar one.   
Just in time with their arrival Yuuri stepped out onto the front porch, he’d probably seen them coming down the road, before he could open his mouth in greeting though a cream coloured ball of fur dashed past his legs, leaping in long strides over the gravel.   
Next to him Yuri took off, before Jean could even react; he winced sympathetically as Yuri’s knees connected with the floor as he let himself slide down, his arms wide open for the approaching cat.

Yuri closed his arms around Potya and his heart clenched painfully by the familiar feeling of soft fur under his fingers and the ear piercing yowling meow of Potya directly into his ear. She couldn’t bring herself to decide whether she’d rather liked to headbut his soul out or to lick every centimeter of his skin, her ministrations only shortly interrupted to meow loudly, declaring the world that she’d finally got her most favourite person back.

He knew he was making a scene, but couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Potya’s body language told him how much she’d missed him and he didn’t care how openly feline his answering headbuts had to look to the outside. It didn’t matter anyway, everybody in Yuutopia knew about his secret. He was beyond caring and sniffled openly into her fur; Potya, distressed by his crying, started to lick his face and massage bis chest furiously.

“Well, well, well, who knew Miss Scratch-A-Lot had such a sweet streak in her?” Mari’s flat tone teased. “I can give you a moment, but if it’s ok for you carry your luggage yourself. I feel too lazy to do so.”

Jean had to carry Yuri’s backpack, while Derosh picked up his messenger bag; Yuri simply refused to let go of the cat in his arms. Yuuri welcomed them properly as he lead them into the main area of the onsen, where the usual same long term customers sat and enjoyed their beverages.

“Yurio!” a warm voice called and behind the half curtain a small woman with a gentle and round face appeared, she  beamed as she called the dreaded nickname. But instead of returning the greeting, Yuri looked as if he’d swallowed a sack of nails. He squared his shoulders in an odd mixture of terrified and brave and bent down low before the older woman, who’d just put her tablet with tea on the table.

Yuri had practiced the traditional dogeza, but hadn’t calculated that he would still hold the cat, so his bow was rather awkward, but he made sure his forehead touched the floor.

“Watashi no neko no sewa o shite kurete arigatō,” he mumbled into plush fur, not really knowing if what he’d said was correct.

“Oh my!” when he looked up he saw Hiroko Katsuki flustered, cradling her flushed cheeks with a cheerful smile. “So good, Yurio!”

She pat his head as if he was still a child, meeting his tear streaked face with warmth. 

“You ok, Yurio, welcome home, hai?” she said in her simple English. Yuri could only whisper a thank you and bowed again.

“You take bath later, hai? Tora-chan!” and with that she hugged him carefully and shoved a cup of chilled tea closer to him as well as to Derosh and Jean.

“Mum wants you to take a bath as a tiger later. Uhm, just if you like of course,” Yuuri translated a little embarrassed.

“Huh?”

“Shifters are considered kami according to folklore,” Mari answered his eloquent question. “Ryokan and onsen have always been places where kami and mortal people met, brought together by the healing properties of the hot springs. It’s considered good luck and a sign of high quality if a kami takes a bath in your onsen. So consider the bath payment for housing your cat. I can see where you got your scratchy personality from.”

“If Yuri and his cat are remotely alike I would’ve asked for a higher compensation,” Jean joked and Yuri shot him a glare. He could see from Mari’s flat smile how she liked his boyfriend already and would side with Jean in teasing Yuri relentless.

As soon as Yuri had sat down Yuri had resumed to her licking and headbutting and it was clear the two were lost in their own world and didn’t plan to stop anytime soon. The gentle and utterly happy smile on Yuri’s face told Jean how they’d made the right decision to come back here.    
It was hard to really comprehend what kind of relationship Yuri had with his cat, but it was clear how much she treasured him and how much he loved her.

“Tadaima!” A familiar voice called from the entrance area where the shoes were placed, followed by an excited barking. “Makka! Stop-!” The brown poodle dashed into the tea room straight to Yuri, nosing him with similar enthusiasm and obvious joy. Yuri freed one hand and pet the dog with a bright smile on his face, whispering to her in a low voice.

“What got you so excite-” Victor’s words died on his lips as he entered the room, his face turning pale and ashen as soon as his eyes locked with Yuri’s. Suddenly the atmosphere in the usually cozy room shifted to a tense one as Yuri and Victor resumed to stare at each other. Jean had been at the receiving end of a hateful glare a lot before they become friends and lovers, but he’d never experienced the look from Victor; Yuri stayed carefully neutral though.

“Yuuri,” Victor said tearsly, his pronunciation making it clear which Yuri he was addressing. “You didn’t tell me…” He was clearing searching for the right words, but whatever conclusion he’d come up with didn’t sit well with him. “You didn’t tell me,” he finished weakly, letting his arms fall limply to his side.

“Because if I would have told you that Yura would visit, you would’ve left. And we talked about it,” Yuuri was very crisp in his words. Jean had heard the tone when he’d reprimanded Seung-Ill and it still sent his hairs on edge. “Yura is my guest and my dear friend. He and JJ and their friend are welcome here just as you are. And I want you to at least try to talk to Yura, while he stays here.”

Jean saw how Yuri tensed irreducible at this. He was probably as surprised by this as was Victor and only made a better job of hiding it.

“My dolzhny pogovorit'” Yuri said in a low voice and with a start Jean realized it was the first time outside of nightmares that he’d hear Yuri speaking Russian since he’d set foot in Canada nearly a year ago. Even during the events at worlds they’d all resumed to speak English for the better understanding.

Victor flinched as if he’d been hit and turned on the spot, walking back outside the same way he’d come.

Yuuri’s deep tired sigh dismissed the tension somewhat, leaving a sad hint in the air. “I’ve prepared your rooms already. If you like we can bring you something to eat if you want to go to bed early?”

Mari showed them their room and promised to bring them something cool to eat for when they would wake up in the middle of the night; according to Yuri it was generic guest room and not the closet he usually occupied during his stay here. Jet Lag hit them hard but they had made the right decision to power through the day. It was still early in the evening, but if they would sleep now it was easier to adjust on Japan time.

Mari closed the door behind them and Yuri sprawled out on one of the futons, Potya still held very close.

“Can you close the blinds please?” 

The idea of a stuffy hot room at summer held little appeal to Jean, but he did as his boyfriend requested and was rewarded with the sight of his happy and relaxed boyfriend. He’d always been bad at reading the body language of cats, but even he could follow the silent conversation between his Yura and Potya, the tails and twitching ears speaking a clear language of how happy they both were. Not even Victor’s poor behaviour could quench that happiness.

 

\--

They both woke with the sun the next morning, Jean instantly awake while Yuri drifted on and off again like usual. When he went to fetch a change of clothes from his suitcase he could see how Yuri’s breathing evened out again and how he fell back into slumber nearly instantly.   
With a fond smile he watched the slow rise and fall of his boyfriend’s chest, Potya curled into a cream coloured ball next to his head. He would have to learn to share the bed from now on, but it was a small price to pay when he saw how happy it made Yuri.

A look on his phone told him that it was barely 5 in the morning and judging from the hushed voices he wasn’t the only one awake. He easily recognized them as Victor and Yuuri, who obviously argued about something; Yuuri was hissing something in low Japanese and Victor answered in and equally hostile tone in Russian. Next to him Yuri started to squirm.

Yuri’s eyes flew open, tail and ears gone in an instant and one look told Jean that he didn’t see him at all. Be it the Russian, a nightmare or the unfamiliar surroundings, he didn’t know, but he did know his Yura was experiencing a severe panic attack.

“No…” Yuri croaked terrified scrambling from the futon, panic obvious in his voice.

“Yura,” Jean tried carefully, but whatever nightmare he had, it held Yuri firmly in his clutches.

“No!” He yelled again, now backed into the corner of the room.

The voices outside died down and moments later the thin door slid open, revealing a Victor that looked ready to kill.    
_ Ok _ , Jean’s mind provided, that must look bad from the outside.   
Yuri’s head shot up at the sudden movement and the look of sheer terror was enough to get Victor to stop. Then though he made the possible worst decision in that situation.

“Are you ok, Yuri?” he asked in Russian, a phrase Jean had learned some time ago but knew it would only spiral Yuri down faster and further.

As anticipated Yuri curled into a tight ball with a strangled cry, a violent shudder shook him, his fingers claw like buried in his hair.

“Ne ubivay menya,” he whispered again and again and by now Jean knew that Yuri was begging for his life. The words blurred into hyperventilating, the breaths swallow and painful.

“No Russian,” Jean hissed at Victor and carefully crawled closer to Yuri, who would twitch violently at ever sudden move, ripping long strands of blond every now and then.

“Yura,” he began again in his deep voice, “everything is fine, Yura. You are in Japan. You’ve escaped to Canada. They didn’t get you. You’re in safety. But you’re having a panic attack. You’re not dying and you’re going to be fine. I’m going to touch you now, ok? Potya is here as well. Potya is okay. Can you open up a bit? She’s worried, too. Come on, breath with me, ok? Just like we practiced. Inhale… one, two, three, four…”

Potya, who’d overcome her initial scare, meowed pitifully at Yuri, kneadin him wherever she could reach him and tried to wriggle her way into Yuri’s closed off form.   
Out of the corner of his eye Jean saw how Yuuri was tugging Victor out of the room. Good, he didn’t need another source of fear for Yuri when he was so far gone in his panic.

 

\--

 

“Was that.. really a panic attack?” Victor finally asked when he and Yuuri sat in the main room. Yuuri had prepared them coffee, leaving the pot for his mother and sister, who would be up any minute.

“JJ told me he has them frequently. Actually I feared he might have one here, the foreign surroundings and stuff.”

“He begged me not to… kill him…” Victor was obviously in shock, his cup of coffee completely ignored.

“I saw what you did there, how you reacted. You heard Yura crying ‘no’ and you were ready to protect him. I don’t know why you’re still playing this farce when you obviously still love him.”

“It’s … it’s not so easy, Yuuri,” he whispered, his eyes unseeing yet wide and afraid.

 

\--

 

“Ok, let’s get over with this shit show so Katsudon can stop his nerves from frying any further,” Yuri grumpily announced, closing the door to the banquet room behind him and Jean. Victor, who’d been in the middle of putting away their laundry, stopped dead in his tracks, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

“Are you ok again, Yura?” Yuuri asked from his position on the bed where he was sorting socks. Yuri still looked bleary eyed but familiarly grumpy and the false bravado hid how embarrassed he actually was about the whole ordeal.

“Yeah, yeah. So,” he fixed Victor in a cold glare. “Are you going to sit and behave or do we have to wrestle like little children to tie you down?” Victor rolled his eyes, but his face was hard when he sat by the unused Kotatsu in the corner of the room.

Yuri and Jean followed suit and sat down on the tatami. Makkachin, who’d dosed by the bed sat up and stared at the two parties attentive. Yuri took a deep breath.

“I know you’re angry at me. But I want to tell you that I did everything in my power to protect you all.”

“Your flight alone painted a target sign on all of us. Your selfishness doomed the lives of everybody!” Victor had tried to stay calm, but he’d jumped up after the very first sentence.

“And you think staying would’ve been an option for me?” Yuri was up as well, the two were so close in height that their noses nearly touched as they tried to stare each other down. “Victor, let me spell it out for you. I would have been killed if I would have stayed. The Ministry for sports had my blood samples stored from the Olympics. The Animal Control Agency was tipped off. They were onto me, they knew I was a shifter. Why else did you think they rushed into Skate Canada like this out of the blue? It was just my fucking luck they found out while I was abroad, otherwise I would’ve just vanished from my way home and you would’ve been none the wiser. Sure! I admit! That would’ve been a lot less troublesome for you. But I would’ve been dead, Victor. Killed by our own government!”

Victor took a step back at the ferociously spat words. He looked unsure and afraid, but not ready to back down yet. “First of all you don’t really know that. Second of all you’ve put so much more at risk than just our careers!”

At this Yuri suddenly grinned cruelly. His stance of aggression shifted to taunting and it was clear how he relished in having the upper hand in the argument.

“I know,” he started, ”that you used your first price money from your first competition in Juniors to pay a doctor in Switzerland to analyse your blood.”

Victor inhaled sharply, his face turning paler by the second.

“You’ve paid him to look for SEEs and he determined that you had an undetectable low level of natural SEEs. There were some, but it could easily be a readout error and not enough to trigger any kind of shifting.”

“How do you know this?” Victor demanded with a hiss and a slightly crazy expression on his face.

“Oh? Somebody told me?” Yuri was clearly mocking him.

“Who told you?”

Yuri grinned, ready to deal his finishing blow.

“Nastya, of course.” His last words were cut off.

While Yuri had grown up in the poor districts of Moscow he was no stranger to brawls. But Victor had grown up in a much more secured surroundings, which was probably the reason why he didn’t throw a punch but rather dealt a slap at Yuri’s face. The resulting clapping sound resonated loud in the room. Victor looked downright terrified at his own actions and Yuri, momentarily caught off guard, looked back up at Victor with dangerously glittering eyes of a predator.

“Wow…” he drawled. “You really hit me. I didn’t think you’d had it in you, but-”

With a sudden bark Makkachin stood between them. She barked loudly at Victor, who took a terrified step back, then turned and barked at Yuri. He held up his hands in mock surrender and a smug still grin on his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. I know I took it too far. But somebody had to kick it into his thick skull!”

Another bark.

“I said I’m sorry! Don’t be mean about it now! That has always been the plan! Your plan, Nastya!”

“Yura…” Jean interrupted him. “Who are you talking to?” Yuri gestures to the poodle in front of him. Jean’s eyes got wide with realization as he took a deliberated swiff from the animal in front of him.

“Oh, hello! I’m very sorry I didn’t realize sooner! I’m so sorry, that was incredible rude of me!” JJ tried to offer her his most charming smile.

“Katsudon, do you know who Anastasiya Nikiforov is?” Yuri asked, still watching Victor intensely, who’d slumped down by the table again.

“Yuri…” he begged weakly, but Yuri was having none of it.

“Forget it, Victor. You’ve had way too many chances to set things right! So? Yuuri?”

Yuuri startled out of his shocked position. “Ah, uhm, I think? Anastasia Nikiforov is Victor’s sister?” he voiced it like a question. “But, uhm, Wikipedia said she’d died shortly after being born? Why are you asking that?”

“Nastya is the common nickname for Anastasia,” Yuri answered.

JJ’s eyes nearly bulged as he took two and two together. “Holy shit you’re Nikiforov’s sister!”

“What? Makka? But- wha- how?” Yuuri was obviously lost, he tried to seek an explanation from Victor, but his fiance had shut down, his face buried in his hands.

Yuri took pity and sat down again as well. “It’s unpredictable with us. We can have plenty of children with normal humans, but not with shifters of a different species. I’m sure you’ve heard of children suddenly sprouting ears and tails or when there was suddenly a puppy in your cradle when there was your baby just seconds ago? The ability to shift can skip several generations.” Yuuri nodded. Of course those were common knowledge and have been part of stories and fairy tales for generations. 

“But that can also go into the opposite direction. When there are children born to shifters who can’t shift into an animal like their parents do, then there are also children born to shifters, who can’t shift into humans. It’s rare, but it happens. I know of a family of cat shifters that held their family cat in the highest regards. Turns out she was actually an aunt, who was just born that way.”

“And you’re saying that Makka…?” Yuuri didn’t dare to speak the words.

Yuri smirked and put a hand in the curly fur of the poodle. “Have you never wondered how old she is for a dog? How Victor always had a poodle, who would just look the same? Only the name changed? Her- ah, can I tell him?” he asked the dog and to Yuuri’s wonder Makka- no Anastasia? Nastya? nodded. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her nodding as an answer, but he’d always thought it was a neat trick, trained by Victor for show.   
All Yuuri knew about Victor’s family came from Wikipedia. With a feeling of shame he had to admit he’d never really asked, but when you read that his parents died in a pile-up on one of Russia’s most frequented highways, you don’t really ask about it. Victor had always told him how Yuuri was his family, and how much of a father figure Yakov had become, that Yuri and Mila were like his younger siblings. He rarely talked about his biological parents at all.

“I mean, she’s singularity all on her own. Wolf shifters are fairly common, dog-shifters, too. But really domesticated breeds, created by decades of selective breeding? That’s really super rare. Shifters are a representation of their surroundings and poodles don’t really occur naturally, if you get my drift. When her parents died they were 14 and with Victor as her big brother of some minutes he would of course be the one who would take care of her. It’s not as if she’s helpless or anything, but can you imagine living with somebody who treats you literally like a dog, because you just happen to look like one?” Makka, no, Nastya, huffed at this.

“Their parents had to make just that decision, but in order to keep their beloved daughter, they had to pass her off as the family dog. And they instructed their son, that if something might ever happen to them, he had to care for her in the future. Sadly though their son was that egoistic dipshit there in the back,” Yuri finished with a snarl, which Nastya punished with a shove.

He knew he was being unfair to Victor, but after everything he’d put him through he was allowed his share of pettiness. Nastya had told him how their parents had drilled Victor in keeping his sister’s secret, not unlike his own grandfather’s teachings. He also knew which lengths Victor went in order to protect Nastya. How he’d forged documents of dog breeders, how he orchestrated the sad “death” of his old poodle and the adoption of a new one in the media to not raise any suspicion on the unnatural age of his “pet”.

So of course he had to panic when Yuri left Russia and him and his dog in the sudden attention of the Animal Control Agency. It was enough to get his blood boiling and his fear to rise, bringing out a Victor much more cruel and ruthless in his task to protect his biggest secret. 

So yes, Yuri understood Victor’s actions throughout the year perfectly. He’d seen through the mean act and saw the fear underneath and met it with understanding and forgiveness.   
What he didn’t forgive though was how Victor let himself get stuck in his ways. He had had so many opportunities to bring Nastya to safety, to include Yuuri, who’d proven again and again how open and reliable he was, and he let it all go to waste.   
Then again… without the threat of immediate death, would’ve Yuri opened up to Jean? Would he have come out to him at all? Despite their similarities? Probably not. And this is where Yuri took all his understanding for Victor’s situation.

“When I met Nastya at the rink for the first time I couldn’t believe my nose. Victor smelled nothing like a shifter and I threw my water bottle at him because I thought he’d enslaved her. She’s an old hag, a smartass and such a dog person, but sometimes she was the only person who would listen to me! Probably because I’ve been the only one who’d actually listened to her…” Yuri finished on a low note and put his head gently on Nastya’s shoulder.

The image striked a memory in Yuuri. During their time in St. Petersburg Yuri would’ve frequented their apartment a lot, despite his loud proclamations on how much he’d hated them both and how much better cats were anyway. But their evenings always ended with the blond curled up on the couch together with the poodle.

“When I told her that I had to go, she encouraged me in it and took it as her cue to finally jump to action herself. Canada was the most obvious choice for me, but it also had benefits for her. Because from there I could take a look in proper research done on shifters. Nastya, you really should tell him that yourself.”

Yuri fetched something that looked suspiciously like an alphabet play mat for children with the cyrillic letters printed on it in happy and bold colours. He rolled the mat out of the floor and Nastya sat in front of it. Victor had let his hands fall to his sides and stared flabbergasted at the display, a sharp gasp indicated how he’d drawn his conclusion. 

Nastya started to put her paw on the single letters.

“V-I-T-Y-A” she spelled in swift motions, obviously used to talk that way. Yuuri’s eyes began to blur and he heard muffled sobs from his boyfriend, but couldn’t tear his gaze away from the letters. Her sentences were short and simple, easy to follow even for Yuuri.

“Vitya, I love you so much. You are my brother and you cared for me for so long. You protected me and I am happy with my life at your side. But I want to be able to hug you with my own arms. I want to talk to you, so that you understand me clearly. I don’t want to be the ringbearer at your wedding. I want to stand by your side when you marry the man you love. I want to wear a dress and I want to be able to tell you how happy I am for you.”

“I didn’t know… I didn’t know…” Victor whispered desperately, tears streaming down his face. But Nastya wasn’t finished yet.

“There is a research group in Glasgow and they research the proteins that are responsible for shifting. There are man made proteins that force a human to shift, but they are researching the other way. I don’t know if they can help me, but I want to try.”

“Why did you never talk to me like that?” Her brother’s voice was weak and if she could she would’ve smiled gently. So she just cocked her head.

“You had your skating and I was happy to stay at your side. It was Yuri who brought me this mat, but you were always so sad and I didn’t want to bother you. Then you met Yuuri and I saw how happy you got and I didn’t want to intrude in your happiness after everything you’ve sacrificed for me. I know you never had a real partner because you feared they might find out about me, I saw how you made yourself lonely and suffering for my sake. I had accepted my life and it was good that way. You had your Yuuri and I still had mine to talk to. But then I found an article online and suddenly there was the chance for me and had to act on it. Yura left and you were so angry and sad and you just wouldn't listen to me anymore. So please, Vitya, help me.”

The room was silent after this. Victor’s tears streamed down his face freely and finally he broke himself out of his trance.

“Please forgive me, Nastya, please forgive me! I’m so sorry, please forgive me!” He crawled forward and wrapped his arms around his sister, sobbing loudly into her shoulder.

Yuri nudged Jean’s calv with his hand and the two exited the room to give them their time and space. They retreated silently to their own room and as soon as Yuri closed the door behind him, Jean was upon him.

“You!” kiss “are amazing!” kiss “I love you so damn much!”

Yuri had to laugh, which Jean tried to kiss from his lips. “What’s it with you? You dork!”

“Yura, Yura, let me kiss you! I need to kiss such a wonderful person like yourself!” He kissed him long and deep, his fingers sprawled protectively over Yuri’s rib cage, dipping him low and turning Yuri’s knees to jelly.

Yuri was starry eyed when he finally let go, a blissful smile on his lips.

“The world is such a horrible place, but you! Yura, you never cease to amaze me! You are so good, so strong! You shouldered that woman’s secret for so long! The weight of her future as well as your own life! Yura, fuck, I love you so much!”

Wow, Yuri thought breathlessly. “Why the sudden swear words? Your mom will think I’m a bad influence on you.”

JJ gave him his trademark smirk and Yuri was glad that he already held him in his arms. “I’ve always been a little rebel, you know? You just bring out the best in me! And now get rid of those shorts, I want to blow you!”

At least Jean had learned more from him than just cursing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist!  
> I always thought Makka came way too short in the series!  
> Potya, too! 
> 
> The idea of Potya kind of adopting Yuri came from the Novisibirks Zoo. A Lynx kitten had been rejected by its mother and a handler got her own housecat with her litter of kittens from home and the house cat adopted the Lynx kitten without a hitch. There are adorable pictures of this big cat, grooming that normal sized housecat!


	14. EPILOGUE II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least, we come to an end!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this far.
> 
> And again of course my biggest thanks to Coyote and sf2nley, who helped me so much!  
> It was a pleasure working with you! <3

Hasetsu | July 15th 2020

The instagram post of the official account of the Yuutopia Onsen featured a rare shot of the outdoor bath with a few customers enjoying the warm water. In their midst sat a tiger, eyes closed in obvious bliss and a wet towel on his head. Needless to say that the Onsen was booked out for the rest of the year.

“That’s creepy as fuck,” Yuri commented as he watched the like-counter going up. Some of the Angels have spotted it and the post made its rounds through his old fan circles. Of course there was no way of telling if it was him, but they were fast to draw the conclusion.

“Hm?” Jean looked up from the television. He didn’t understand a word, but had developed a fascination for Japanese commercials and could watch them for hours. The main room was deserted, the Onsen closed for the evening because of an extended family dinner. Minako would come later as well as Yuuko and her family. Yuri dreaded and looked forward to meet the triplets again.

“The picture.”

“Have you never seen yourself shifted?”

Yuri tsked next to him and it told JJ everything he needed to now.

“Let me guess, there weren’t any pictures taken, because of the risk? What about mirrors?”

“We didn’t have a floor length mirror. Uhm… I tried once to jump on the toilet seat to use the bathroom mirror but that bruise I got lasted for, like, weeks!” JJ had to snicker at the thought of a tiger cub trying, and failing, to watch itself in a mirror.

“You’re so damn adorable sometimes”

“I’m not!”

“Did you realize that this was the first time I saw you shifted?”

That stopped Yuri in his squirming. “It wasn’t, was it?”

“It was. I mean, at least the first time I saw you whole and not just your tail disappearing into the woods.” JJ encircled Yuri again in his arms, mindful because he might slink away in embarrassment. “And it was glorious.” He wanted to underline his words with a deep kiss, but a little furry paw put itself on his puckered lips.

He opened his eyes and stared directly into Potya’s cool blue, her look not leaving any room for debate.

“Potya!” Yuri groaned with laughter in his voice.

Ah, yes, that. It was understandable that Yuri and his cat wouldn’t want to part, what he didn’t think of was how deep Potya’s protective instinct actually ran.She’d cockblocked him on several occasions already and now she was trying to stop him from kissing their Yura?

“We talked about this, you grumpy old lady! I’m grown up now and I can make my own decisions!” Potya’s tip of her tail vibrated and she made a low growling sound. 

Of course, Yuri gave in. He was never ever allowed again to ridicule him for being such a Mama’s boy, JJ decided, Yuri was far worse and he cowered before his cat! That his heart did a little flip whenever Yuri smiled before cuddling with Potya wasn’t helping at all!

“Ok, Birthday Boy, I hope you two stopped being gross, because Mom’s about to bring the cake any minute now. Oh, and if I were you I’d tone it down when the hell spawns arrive. That or make an official announcement before they do,” Mari called to them as she walked into the room carrying dishes and cups for the party. Yuri had forgotten that July 15th was JJ’s birthday when he’d planned the trip and was mortified when he’d found out.

Hiroko though was delighted when she heard the news, always happy to throw a feast for her family. A family which now included Jean, as she’d told him next to a furiously blushing Yuri. “You’re our Yurio’s boyfriend, you’re part of family now!”

Chaos broke out as Yuuko and her family arrived, the triplets all over Yuri in an instant, with Yuuko apologizing constantly. Takeshi was wary at first, throwing him dark glances from time to time, but loosened up as soon as Minako got some alcohol in him.

“I hope this is ok?” Katsuki whispered to Jean, when his mother put a beautiful cake with a little lion figure on top of it on the table. “Mom chose it because of your zodiac. I didn’t say anything, I promise. She forms the designs herself out of marzipan and-”

“No way! She made that?!” JJ leaned forward with big eyes. “Sugoi! Arigato gozaimasu!” He saw how Yuri rolled his eyes at the probably horrible pronunciation, but it were the only words he really knew in Japanese and Mama Katsuki always got so happy when he tried to speak with her.

Yuuri’s question was kind, but not really necessary, if anything JJ had always felt comfortable in his skin and fur alike. So when Yuuri had asked him shyly if he was also a shifter, because of how he’d recognized Makka after smelling her, he’d told him willingly. He could see that their host was drawn between curiosity and politeness, so he’d told him how he could shift into a lion, but that he wasn’t as close to his inner animal as was Yuri.

“I don’t know if it’s because I’m just not as in tune as he is? But then again there are many different types and levels and it’s really always super individual. I mean, Yura can shift his clothes! He has now idea where they go, but when I try to do it, I end up ripping my pants and embarrassing myself! No matter how science tries to explain it, most of the times we can only say: it’s magic?”

The party dragged on until the early hours in the morning. Hiroko and Toshiya had gone to bed, and Yuuko and her family had headed home when the triplets had started to nod off. JJ and Yuri, as well as Victor and the two Katsuki siblings held their ground though, together with agent Derosh, who had a remarkable dry humor.

“Wooops! Sorry Yurio,” Yuuri slurred as he spilled some sake (which tasted horrible in JJ’s humble opinion) into Yuri’s cup of water. “Forgot you dinn’t drink.”

“What? You drink!” JJ protested and ok, he might’ve drunken more of the vile stuff than just a nibble.

“Nah, he doesn’t!” Victor protested way too loud for the late hour. “He’s always been the sober one! No matter if he won gold or even after he got 18! Always so res- res- respnsbl our Yuratchka!”

“But I saw him drinking! Katsuki! That’s not the first time you filled his glass!” JJ protested equally loud.

“Shut the fuck up you two. You’re literally the two most annoying people I know. And you’re even worse when drunk!” In contrast to his words he was also swaying dangerously.

“Oh! Oh! I know why you never drink!” JJ crowed and Yuri threw him a glare as he knocked back the glass. And it was true. It wasn’t his first one.

“Why? JJ! Tell me!” JJ struggled to catch Katsuki who threw himself over his shoulders and he might have gotten a glimpse why Yuri’d decided to stay sober with those two around.

“Well, first of all, he’s a total lightweight! Have you ever carried him? He’s all muscle and spite! He gets drunk in, like, seconds! And second… ah, it’ll start soon, just you wait.” 

And true to his word it didn’t take long for Yuri to sway harder even while sitting down and finally he let his head slump on JJ’s shoulder, his furry ears tickling his jaw. Katsuki gasped and whispered another word that JJ understood. Anybody with access to the internet knew what ‘kawaii’ meant and he had to admit, it fit.

“I heard that, asshole,” Yuri muttered under his breath, the stripes running down his arms and decorating his face; his tail flickered lazy from left to right.

“Oh my god, Yura, does that happen all of the time?” Victor had no filter of course. It was nice to see he was back to his old behaviour, the tension between the two skaters was still there, too much had been said to just be forgiven and forgotten, but the alcoholic haze had mellowed them both.

Yuri slumped back further and stretched in an undeniable cat like manner on the tatami mat. “Jeh Jeh,” he purred and rubbed his jaw on his knee. This was Potya’s cue; she’d napped on a pile of cushions in the corner of the room, but jumped down and whacked on Yuri’s head with her paw.

“Nya! Potya!” Yuri protested, but wormed on the ground until his belly showed up, clearly acknowledging Potya as the superior cat. Not that anybody but Jean could understand the gesture, which made it all the more adorable.

“Ok, my ferocious drunken tiger, I think it’s time for us to go to bed!” Jean declared and threw Yuri’s limp body over his shoulder. Yuuri and Victor protested loudly, but Mari agreed with him and started to clean the table with Derosh coming to her assistance.

 

“Thank you,” Yuri murmured later when they were laying entangled in each other, despite the summer heat, on their futon. Yuri’s tail had curled itself around Jean’s ankle, like it did everytime when they were close.

“For carrying you to bed?”

“For everything?”

“Hm?” It was dark inside the room, but Yuri’s eyes held a gentle glow; a glow he knew his eyes mirrored.

“I never… I never thought this was possible… being me. With my friends. Not being called out, but being accepted… just how I am. And you made that possible. If you hadn’t agreed to help me-”

“I’m pretty sure you would’ve found a way, because you’re just that amazing Yura.”

“I don’t feel that way, not with all the shit my friends have to go through. Not when the laws in my home are so absolutely fucked up.” 

The future looked bleak at the moment. The Russian government had issued warrants of arrest for Lilia, Yakov and Mila. While Lilia and Yakov were protected by Britain’s refugee law, enforced and supported by Lilia’s friends high up in the Parliament, Mila didn’t have that luxury and was currently off the radar and very much on the run. She’d flown back with Sarah after worlds, but Italy wouldn’t grant her a political refugee status. Yuri had arranged her to travel by land to Great Britain with the help of his grandfather’s contacts. He was hoping to hear of her arrival any day now.   
Georgi had also a hard time explaining his innocence in the whole matter. The rink was under a new head coach and Georgi was banned from ever working as a coach again, currently under house arrest until it was proven that he wasn’t involved. Most of the Senior skaters were forced to either quit or change their rink. The Junior’s were all thoroughly investigated, including their families and pets.

Yes, the outlook was a grim one. But never before had Yuri felt more hope for the future than now. He now knew he could fight back and that he wasn’t alone anymore. He’d shyly confessed to Jean that he’d like to finish his high school degree, because of his skating he was never able to finalize his second level education in Russia. And after the Olympics, which he was very eager to participate at, he wanted to study political science; learning the tools with which he could trigger a change in his old home country. Another first was how his plans of the future were defined and went further than ‘ _ not getting found out, not getting caught, not getting killed _ ’.

“It looks shit right now, I know, but it will get better,” Jean whispered and tugged him closer.

“I believe you,” and strangely enough, Yuri did. Jean could tell him the world was flat and he would believe him.

“I love you so damn much,” he said instead.

“I’m pretty sure I love you more. I still can’t believe that I got so lucky that somebody as strong and breathtaking as you fell for me? This? having you in my arms, seeing you happy and content, surrounded by your family. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am now, Yura.”

“You sap.”

“Yes, absolutely. Your sap. The sappiest sap that ever sapped!” 

Yuri’s slightly drunken laughter was the sweetest sound he could imagine and kissing it from his lips was the sweetest taste Jean had ever felt on his tongue.

Yeah, it was hard, but they had each other and therefor live was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for readig this!
> 
> Please tell me how you've liked the story!  
> A comment always makes me so happy and I answer every single one!
> 
> Cat-Yuri is my guilty pleassure and I knew he didn't really have a place in this grim setting. So I wanted to include him i the epilgoue.  
> He always gets like that when he drinks. 
> 
> Because tiger or not. A cat is a cat.

**Author's Note:**

> As always: kudos, shares and most of all comments gets your friendly neighbourhood author going! \0/  
> I can only speak for myself, but reading comments always brightens my day so much!


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